"I have my ways. Besides, you’re the best assignment editor we have. Why let perfection have a day off?”
“Your logic is flattering and infuriating,” he grinned. “Have a good weekend, Lia.”
I walked out into the stifling June night. My goal was to only cry for half of the drive home. Much to my surprise, I didn’t shed one tear.
Little victories.
* * *
"Lia! Lia! Lia!" Sydney's daughter ran down the walk toward me at full speed. She wrapped her small body around my legs. "Are those my cupcakes?"
"Yes, Violet. These are all yours." I laughed, tightening my grip on the plastic container.
"Violet, would you please let Lia go so she can walk into the house?" Sydney waved from the front door.
"Okay, mommy.” She abandoned my legs and grasped my hand. "Come on. We can put those on the table with all my presents."
"I swear she's seven going on twenty." Sydney shook her head. "Everyone's out back by the pool. Feel free to—“
Violet shrieked. "Let's go to the pool.”
Her dark brown hair bobbed up and down with each excited bounce.
“Maybe a little later,” I said.
Sydney gave her daughter a stern look. "Lia will join you outside in a few minutes. Go play with your friends."
The little girl obeyed and ran out the back door.
"She adores you. I've never seen anything like it."
"I have a way with kids and animals. Go figure." I put the cupcakes on the table. Laughter and splashing from outside floated in through the screen door. "Do you need help with anything?"
"Nope. It’s all under control. Go enjoy the party. Ray is out there grilling burgers. Make sure you let him know what you want."
Through the gaggle of seven-year-olds running amok, I spotted Tyler and Wesley lounging at one of the tables.
"Well, look who's here." Tyler looked up through lowered sunglasses.
"Ah, Lia. Smile for the camera." Wesley aimed the lens at me. Mustering up a decent fake smile, I kicked out my hip and posed.
"Is this going on your blog, Wes?"
“No. These are just for Syd and Ray. It would be a bit weird if I posted photos online of little kids swimming.”
“True,” I laughed. “Then I’d have to put you as my lead story and things would get awkward.”
“Save it for November. Great sweeps piece,” Tyler drawled.
“Enough, you two. I’m going to do a whole summer photo blog this year. The biggest thing will be the fireworks next month.”
"Will you be around for that, Lia?” Tyler asked. “Or will you be jet-setting somewhere with your new boyfriend?"
I cringed internally.
"I'll be here. If only to annoy you."
“What was it like being at that big party? Did you meet a ton of people?”
I could barely meet Wesley’s inquisitive gaze.
“It was fun,” I answered, watching the kids splash and play. I put up the good fight and hung around for most of the party. It was nice being out in the warm sunshine, even if it meant dodging questions about Alastair. Once Ray started spouting off about the Miami Marlins, I was in the clear. Baseball talk trumped boy talk.
I helped Sydney clean up before retreating to a quiet table by the pool house. Something glinted off the sunlight in the distance. I peered toward the neighbor's yard, but didn't see anything. Small hairs rose on the back of my neck as uneasiness settled around me. Laughter from the pool and the general happiness of the surroundings conflicted wildly with my instincts. I looked around the yard again, but still didn't see anything. Dismissing it as paranoia, I went back to the patio.
The guys were still talking about baseball.
This is my ticket to leave.
"I'm going to head out guys."
"What? No.” Ray feigned a hurt look. "We were just getting to the meat and potatoes of the Marlins' issues."
"As exciting as that sounds, I think I'll pass,” I replied dryly.
Ray leaned across the table. "One of these days Lia, I'm going to convert you and make you like sports. And then, you'll be just as miserable as the rest of us."
"Ray, if you can accomplish that, my dad will probably enshrine you in some hall of fame."
* * *
I stared at the bouquet sitting in front of my door. Oriental lilies and white roses were nestled amongst white seasonal blooms and lush green foliage. It was stunning. Picking it up, I went inside and placed it on the kitchen table. Opening the envelope, I removed a small card.
I’m sorry. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.
Ignoring him this time was much harder. The emails were one thing. I could hit a button and they’d disappear. This was different. This required some degree of thought. I laughed bitterly. Now I’m going to cave because he sent me flowers? Please.
* * *
I ran along the shoreline on Sunday morning as though I was being chased. The sun was just peeking above the horizon, casting a magnificent display of colors in deep oranges and reds. Golden beach sand glistened beneath my feet. I ran faster. I wanted to catch the sun and rise with it, above all this. I wanted to escape my sadness.
The muscles in my legs burned and strained. Gritting my teeth, I pushed harder. Air wheezed in and out of my overworked lungs. The sun was a blazing half-circle on the water, turning the golden sand to copper. Tears streamed out of my eyes as I pushed myself to the limit. If I could just run fast enough, I’d be free.
Fire torched my lungs. I still didn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. My legs gave out before I did, folding under me, forcing me to the ground. Defeated, I stayed on my hands and knees as the tide nipped at my skin. I wasn’t crying. I didn’t have any tears left. Sitting back on my heels, I watched the sun complete its triumphant climb. My quest to catch it had to wait for another day.
There wasn’t any rush to get back to the car, so I strolled along, watching the early beach-goers claim the perfect spot in the sand. I was jealous of their stress-free movements, their easy banter and joyful laughs. I’d parked in a lot reserved for residents who had access to a private entrance to the beach. It was one of the few things I’d kept from Nathan. He knew how much I loved to run and arranged for me to have the pass.
I stopped short. The lot was empty except for my car and a gray Mercedes SUV.
“Lots of people drive those,” I whispered.
The closer I got, the more I was convinced I’d overreacted. I was maybe ten yards from my car when the driver’s door opened. My whole body went cold. I knew it was him before he stepped away from the car. The early morning sun set his chocolate-red hair ablaze. His face was pale and drawn, but his eyes were luminous.
I was so shocked, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Lia.”
The richness of his voice carried on the ocean breeze, massaging my senses. He was here, in front of me. I certainly can’t delete this.
Tilting his head, he looked at me curiously.
“Are you—“
“How did you know I was here?” I demanded. “This is a private lot.”
Not flinching, he squared his jaw. “I followed you.”
Although I was standing outside, everything closed in around me. Leaning forward, I put my hands on my thighs to steady myself. Dizziness blurred my vision. Righting myself, I walked to my car and sat on the hood. The sun hadn’t been up long enough to heat the metal, but it was warm on my butt and legs.
“Why are you here?”
Now that I was sitting on the car, he moved to stand in front of me.
"Why didn't you answer any of my emails?" He furrowed his brow, staring at me darkly.
I had an answer ready; I just couldn’t find the words. He walked closer until his legs touched the bumper.
“I needed to know you were alright. Why didn’t you answer me?”
Heat radiated through me the second Alastair placed his hands on my thighs. I was trapped in the undertow of my feelings
for him. The more vigorously I fought them, the faster they overpowered me.
“You said you didn’t…I thought you didn’t need me.”
Cradling my face in his hands, he answered, “I still need to know you’re safe.”
I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut. His touch was too powerful.
“You flew all this way to find out if I was safe?”
“Look at me,” he whispered. “Please.”
I opened my eyes. Two beautiful, clear, unshielded emerald irises met mine. He still had a gentle hold on my face, caressing me with his thumbs.
“Do you really think that’s the only reason I flew here?”
“I don’t know what to think.” Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. “One minute I’m your angel, the next I’m cast aside like an unwanted dish rag.”
“You’re not unwanted,” he countered.
“Oh no? I spent sixteen hours flying home stand-by because you didn’t want me,” I glowered. “After everything we shared, it wasn’t enough.”
“I can’t change what happened.”
“Why are you doing this?” I yelled, pushing him away. “Why do you make me feel these things for you, then destroy me? What have I ever done to deserve being treated this way?”
I was so enveloped within my own turmoil, I barely noticed his. A nightmarish roar shattered the peaceful lull of the waves crashing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
He stood with his back to me, hands planted on the hood of the SUV. I watched his body quiver and heave. I’d never heard a sound like that come from a person. It was filled with something far greater than pain. Wiping my eyes, I got off my car and went to him. Not knowing what to do or say, I stood to his left. The expression on his face tore a hole through my soul.
Turning to face me, he made no effort to hide his emotions.
“Why is it so different with you?” he choked.
“I don’t know.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to mean this much.”
He was in front of me before I had a chance to react, holding my head in his hands again. Stripped completely of his outer shell, he stood before me; vulnerable and exposed.
“Say something,” he implored.
“I don’t—“
“Tell me I haven’t ruined this.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Tell me I haven’t fucked up the one good thing that’s happened in my life.”
The sun burned a little brighter, bearing down on us. Its heat was uncomfortable. I couldn’t answer him. I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear.
“I don’t know, Alastair.”
“Fair enough.” He brushed his thumb across my lips. “I’m just so relieved you’re okay. Not hearing from you drove me mad.”
“I’m far from okay,” I responded, annoyed.
“Come back to the hotel with me?”
“Now? I’m gross from my run. I want to take a shower and change.”
“You can clean up in the suite. Please. Come with me.”
“Is this a good idea?”
Pulling me into a hug, he nuzzled my neck. “I hope so.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
He studied my face.
“Really?”
“Don’t give me the option to change my mind, Holden.”
“Alright. Do you want to go together? Or should we meet there?" He stood close, lightly running his hand down my arm.
“Together. We can come back and get my car later, right?”
“Of course.”
Climbing into his car, I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake. It was about a half hour drive back to his hotel. I felt so grimy and icky from my run. I couldn’t wait to hop in the shower.
I watched the flat green scenery zip past as we drove down the highway. Palm trees stood at attention as we approached the more populated, tourist-filled area near International Drive. Crowds of tourists clutching cameras and maps all hurried off to find something exciting to do. I could see the tall glass and steel hotel glittering in the morning sun.
A weird déjà vu crept through me as we walked through the lobby and waited for an elevator. I kept my arms folded in an effort to remain protected in my little bubble.
“I’ll wait for you out here while you shower,” he said when we both walked into the suite.
He kept fidgeting with the car keys. I’d never seen him so antsy. I took them from him and put them on one of the end tables. He sat on the arm of the couch, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“I treated you horribly at the house. Those things I said…” he trailed off. “I have no excuse. I’ll spend the rest of my days apologizing if I have to.”
“You don’t have to be so dramatic,” I muttered.
“Ask me anything. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
Exasperated and still grimy from my run, I threw my head back in frustration. “Right now, I want to get out of these disgusting clothes. I have sand everywhere.”
“Okay.”
His small crooked smile melted some of the apprehension from his face. Before he could say anything else, I turned on my heel and went to the master bathroom. Letting the hot water drench me, I wondered how much more of this emotional roller coaster I could stand. Was I really willing to sift through the caverns of his past and help him heal? I scratched the shampoo into my scalp, harshly rubbing it through my tangled wet hair. There was something buried deep inside him that caused him to flip a switch and push me away.
One thing I knew for sure was that he wasn’t a bad person. I’d seen too many instances of gentleness to think he was really rotten to the core. He was damaged, not unsalvageable. I let the water run over my head, washing away the suds. I didn’t want to delude myself into thinking I’d change him or save him. That was a fool’s game I wasn’t willing to play.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in the white hotel robe and towel dried my long, thick hair as best I could. Guess I’ll be spending the day in a robe. Walking into the master bedroom, I saw Alastair sitting on the bed. He smiled at me.
“They’re probably going to be a little big, but you can wear these until I take you back to your flat.”
On the bed next to him lay a gray fleece shirt and black boxer shorts.
“Oh. Thanks.”
We stared at one another for a minute. This whole morning had been so surreal I thought maybe it was all a dream.
“Right, then. I’ll let you get dressed. Are you hungry? I can order breakfast if you’d like.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I answered, ignoring the loud growls in my belly.
“It’s not good to exercise on an empty stomach,” he admonished gently.
Hearing that little bit of bossiness made me smile. He’d been such a wreck all morning it was good to see some of his dominant personality reappear.
“Okay, but don’t order the entire menu. Eggs and pancakes are fine.”
Standing up, he lifted an eyebrow. “Eggs and pancakes? As you wish.”
By the time I finished dressing and blow-drying my hair, the food had arrived. It looked really good. Aside from that first day back when the thought of food was undesirable, my appetite hadn’t suffered along with the rest of me. I loaded a plate with scrambled eggs and two pancakes.
We ate in silence, sizing one another up from across the table. He looked pleased that I was eating. Silly boy. Just because I’m upset doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.
Scanning the living room, I noticed several bags from various clothing stores.
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long. I got here yesterday.”
“Did a little shopping already?” I pointed to the bags.
“Yeah, I suppose,” he sighed. “I flew here with no luggage. I needed a few things.”
I stopped mid-chew. No luggage? He flew across the Atlantic with nothing?
Seeming to hear my thoughts, he answered, “I just wanted to get here.
So long as I had my passport, everything else was secondary.”
I finished the mouthful of food and had some juice. Now wasn’t the time to get caught up in the romantic notion that he was so distraught he hopped on a plane with just the clothes on his back to get to me. I wasn’t that delusional. It did hit me that the clothes he’d let me borrow didn’t smell of his cologne. Looking down, I noticed something round and shiny on the boxer shorts. I peeled off a clear sticker with a capital M on it.
“Guess I’m the first one to wear these,” I said, adhering the sticker to my finger and holding it up.
“Missed that one,” he smiled, standing up.
Assuming he was going to use the bathroom, I started when instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the chair.
“I’m sorry,” he said, hugging me tightly.
Melting into his embrace, I hugged him back with just as much force. His heart pounded so quickly, it vibrated against me. I think he needed this more than I did. I think he needed to know I wasn’t abhorred by him and what happened at the estate. I let him hug me as long as he wanted. Pushing out a shaky sigh, he stepped back and studied my face.
“You’re beautiful with no make-up.”
Throwing him a skeptical glance, I huffed, “Nice line.”
“I mean it,” he responded, unabashed. “So delicate and strong. If we make it through this, I still hope to photograph you one day.”
“Do you want to make it through this?”
“Yes.” He cupped my cheeks, fixing a heated stare on me. “I want this. I want you.”
“Then why did you push me away? Why did you make me feel like that?” I lost some of the grasp I had on my emotions. I didn’t want to break apart in front of him, especially when he had so much to explain.
Guiding me to the couch, he waited for me get settled on the cushion before sitting and facing me.
"It was my fault," he muttered. "I caused the accident."
“What?”
“I killed my family,” he said slowly, clenching his jaw.
“No you didn’t. You said someone fell asleep at the wheel and—“
“Yes, I did,” he interrupted, anger flaring in his eyes. “I was pestering Grace. My parents told me to stop but I didn't. I thought it would be funny to unbuckle her seatbelt. She started yelling that I was annoying her, so my mum turned around and my dad looked at me through the rearview mirror. They never saw the other car cross over the line."
Catch My Breath Page 23
