When Opposites Collide Boxset

by Kathy Coopmans

  “I’m off Monday. I’ll pick you up around two. This way, you can be home for your man.” Her giggle that follows settles my nerves.

  I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “He’s not my man.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  Her tone picks right up into the fun and carefree nature I’m accustomed to. Still, I’m a little worried.

  “Whatever. I swear you’re just a hopeless romantic.”

  “I wish,” she whispers into the phone.

  “I just heard Zeke’s car pull in. Call me if you need anything.”

  I hang up with an unsettled feeling lingering in my stomach. I’m not sure if it’s the contents of the box or the odd conversation that just ensued. Either way, I bounce off the bed and rush out into the kitchen, waiting for the door leading to the garage to swing wide open.

  “Hey.” Zeke’s shocked expression indicates he wasn’t expecting to see me standing there.

  I giggle lightly, feeling like a little puppy waiting for their owner. I’ve been doing so much of that lately that I’m still not used to the sound. I may never be. However, every time I hear it, it’s another step for me in the right direction.

  “That happy to see me?” he asks, closing the distance between us and gracing me with a light peck on my lips.

  “You could say that.” I clutch the little gift behind my back.

  It’s funny Zeke has a surprise for me and I have for him. It’s not like we planned this; it just happened. Much like us.

  “I was going to wait until tonight, but I can’t.” He drops his leather bag to the tile floor.

  His words scare me for a beat. Wondering what in the hell he has up his sleeve. I’ve learned the unknown is the scariest for me. The not knowing has the the power to make the oxygen vanish in my lungs.

  When Zeke reaches behind my back for my hand, I’m quick to move the present to the other one. His fingers lace through mine, making the inevitable panic dull to a faint ache. His touch is comforting and a safe place to rest my worries and dreams as well.

  We walk down the hall in silence with our hands connected. He digs into his pocket, pulling out a key to the locked door. He must sense my worry and the creeping tension when I squeeze his hand.

  “Do you trust me?” He peers over his shoulder.

  I nod fighting to mask how nervous I am. “Unless this is a torture dungeon or something like that.”

  I try to make a joke, and it’s pathetic at best. Zeke doesn’t pay much attention, too focused on unlocking the door.

  “Do you think you could close your eyes?”

  “No.” It’s an automatic response, which I instantly regret. He asks if I trusted him, and I do. “I’m sorry.” I inhale deeply, close my eyes, and I swear I can see him smiling.

  “Every day you knock me on my ass with how far you’ve come, Amelia. Don’t keep those beautiful eyes closed for me. Do it for yourself.”

  “I’ll agree to disagree. I’m doing this for both of us. Now, please open the door. I’ve wondered what you’ve had hidden away in here.” I swallow down my fear.

  I hear the lock click, and much to my surprise, I don’t jump. Fear doesn’t take over. The counting doesn’t start. And the skin that cups my face is warm, soft, and gentle. He drops his forehead to mine.

  “I’m so proud of you, Amelia. Are you ready?” The tone of his voice peeks my curiosity even more. If I had my eyes open, I would bet this man’s eyes were shining as brightly at the midday sun.

  “I want you to walk into this with eyes wide open and take this as my gift to the both of us, Amelia.”

  I hear the door creak open, the brass knob hitting the drywall, and still I don’t flinch. I continue to picture Zeke’s loving green eyes until courage begins to trump my anxiety.

  “Take a few steps forward when you're ready.” His voice trails off, indicating to me he’s stepped inside.

  The bluebird carries the sky on his back.

  I repeat my new favorite words over and over in my mind until I feel strong. The same words I say to myself every night before I fall asleep. I step forward doing my best to keep the gift concealed at my side.

  When I open my eyes, the sight before me has left me speechless and my knees shaking.

  Colors everywhere, not on the wall or in the decorations, but in bottles. Blank canvases line the floor, resting up against the wall. An easel in the center. The walls a stark white just screaming for some color. Brand-new, fresh paintbrushes nestled perfectly in a stand. Every size and shape an artist could ask for.

  I turn to Zeke with my mouth wide open and tears rolling down my face.

  He shrugs. “Sorry, I kind of forgot the shiny red bow, Bluebird.”

  I don’t care about a stupid red bow. He did all of this for me. Oh, my God. I can’t believe this. Or maybe I can. I don’t know what to think. Except, this is heaven.

  “How did you know?” I whisper, my mind traveling in so many directions as I take this all in.

  “I wanted you to have a hobby. I know you love basketball, cooking, and baking, but I think you want more. Ronan made a comment one day about how he thought you loved art. I winged it. By the look on your face, I would say our hunches paid off.”

  I fly into his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. “Thank you, Zeke. This is everything. You have no idea.”

  His large palms rub up and down my back. They hold a powerful force that somehow starts my talking.

  “I used to love to paint. Lived for it until the day I didn’t. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  45

  Zeke

  The torrid emotions remain clogged in my throat with every word that slips out of her mouth. However, her reaction, it stores them in the back of my mind for the time being. It’s better than anything I could’ve imagined.

  Those three words I’m dying to tell her are right under the clogged emotion in my throat. Instead of fighting with my mind to get them out, I simply enjoy this moment. For her.

  In the chaotic world I live in, with work and the demons I hide, I’ve realized I don’t stop and relish precious moments like I should. This is something Amelia brought out in me. She’s teaching me how to live a better life without even realizing it. With every pound of my beating heart, every ounce of love I have for her, I know she’s experiencing them, too.

  I want to groan in protest when she pulls away from me, and I begin to use the back of my hand to wipe away her tears. Happy tears. I don’t even have to ask.

  She nibbles on her bottom lip. Her eyes go back to scanning the room, widening with every glance.

  “This seems like nothing now, but I have a present for you, too.” She peers up at me shyly.

  I raise my eyebrows, pulling her to back me, placing my hand on her hip.

  “I ordered it three days ago before you told me about the plans for this weekend. It seems so silly now.”

  “Amelia,” I warn.

  She pulls a long, narrow box from her side. Hell, in all of my excitement, I never even noticed she had something in her hand. It’s wrapped in a shimmery, gold wrapping paper with a delicate royal blue ribbon tied around it. I don’t miss the fact she chose to top it off with the color blue. My heart swells understanding the hidden message nestled in that hue.

  I take the box from her shaky hands, tearing the wrapping paper off, letting it flutter to the floor. Lifting the lid of the box and seeing what’s inside, it’s now me who’s fighting back emotions. A delicate ink pen lies in the middle of a white, fluffy bed. Dr. Zeke Hartley inscribed in a gold font. I pick it up from the box twirling it in my fingers. It’s then I notice the inscription on the other side. To make me soar.

  “I know it’s silly. I just, well, when you told me the other day that you hated going to work and leaving me here, I thought maybe this would make you think of me. I don’t know. A man like you has everything, and you’ve given me so much. I wanted you to know that when you’re gone, I
’m thinking of you, too.”

  I peer down at this incredible woman, who in spite of how young she is, is more grown up than she realizes. Her heart proves it. The way she’s made the chains that have caged my heart in break apart with a simple glance. She really has no idea.

  “I mean, I know you write a lot at work, but then started thinking everything is probably electronic nowadays,” she rambles on, while I’m struck mute.

  The box drops to the floor. I clutch the pen in my hand and then reach for the side of her face, stepping into her. “This is everything, Bluebird. You’re everything. Materialistic things mean nothing to me. I haven’t had everything. Not until you.”

  I lean down and kiss her. She opens up easily. Our mouths connect in a way that shifts this relationship into a whole other territory. I simply cannot get enough of her. I will never get enough. She holds more power over me than any one person has before. She’s changed me. It really can’t be explained better than that.

  What I’m feeling right now is dangerous. My mind is telling me to do one thing, while my heart is holding up the bright red sign that tells me to stop. I’m a smart man knowing if I don’t pull back, that I’ll never be able to. It takes all of my self-control to do so.

  “Amelia, thank you. This pen means everything to me.”

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from telling her she didn’t have to and that it was probably expensive, sucking up half her first paycheck from me. It’s the pride playing out on all of her features that makes me swallow all those words. This woman did this for me, and that’s all that matters.

  “I had dinner reservations for us. My friend is the manager, and it typically takes three months to get into. But you know what? I have other plans right now.”

  “What?” she whispers.

  “Let’s just drive. I’d love to show you one of my favorite spots.” I leave out the part that this spot happens to be one of the places I go when life becomes too much for me. It’s the one place I can sit and think about my sister.

  “I’d love that.”

  “I have an idea. Pack a sketchpad?” I point to her drawing desk.

  We’re in my convertible with the top down soaring down the open highway. Amelia’s blond hair is whipping around in the wind. A vision of beauty I’m learning I don’t think I’d be able to live without. She reaches over to place her hand over mine where I have it resting on the gearshift. Her finger tracing the lines on my watch. It reminds me of the beaten woman in the hospital who was mesmerized by it.

  I whip into a Kentucky Fried Chicken drive-up window. Amelia doesn’t ask any questions, just gives me an odd sideways stare. I order enough food to feed a family of ten, making sure all our bases are covered.

  “Anything else?” I turn to Amelia. “We have about thirty minutes until our final destination.”

  “I think I have everything I need sitting right next to me.”

  My thoughts exactly, but Christ, she’s been making my meals and desserts every night. Leaving foil over my plates on the nights I work late. A note to make sure I eat before coming to bed. A bed where I now find her fast asleep, waiting for me. She doesn’t care if this is a drive-through; quite frankly, neither do I. I need to make sure she has everything she wants. Especially potatoes, because they’re the bomb.

  I pay the cashier, take our bags, the drinks, and hand them to her. She tucks the bag on the floor between her feet, sets the drinks in the carrier, and I can’t help but reach over and kiss her quickly.

  Soon, the scent of salt fills the air. The beach is abnormally vacant. Amelia grabs her large purse, while I juggle everything else in my arms.

  “I can carry something else, Zeke,” she reminds me for the fifteenth time on the way down to the beach.

  “I’m trying to be a gentlemen here.” I wink over at her.

  “Yes, that chicken leg balanced underneath your chin that you were trying to devour while testing out your pack mule skills is hot.”

  “Prince Fucking Charming, baby.”

  Amelia’s laughter floats in the breeze, making me smile. We walk past a vendor selling all sorts of beach essentials mainly targeting young children. I don’t miss Amelia’s longing gaze on the colorful kites, making a mental note to run up and buy one once we are settled in.

  “You pick the spot, Bluebird.”

  She taps her chin with her large bag over her shoulder. I’m thanking God I convinced her to change out of her sundress. This breeze would definitely be giving everyone a nice view of her ass. However, the short jean shorts are doing a fine job all on their own.

  There are miles of open beach, yet Amelia takes this decision to heart, thinking long and hard. We zig-zag back and forth until she finally picks a spot.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  She nods. “It’s perfect.”

  We lay out the large blanket and our gourmet dinner. Amelia settles on the plaid blanket crossing her legs.

  “Any reason for this spot?” I ask, pulling a piece of chicken from the bucket.

  “I would say don’t laugh at me or something like that, but we are passed that nonsense.” She tucks a stray golden piece of hair behind her ear. “I don’t remember what a sunset looks like. I want to experience all of it, and this looks like the perfect spot.”

  For fuck’s sake. She’s more than likely lived in this area her entire life and hadn't seen a sunset. Jesus Christ. Her mother deserves to rot in hell right along with anyone else who has never given this woman the right to live. Fuck, this pisses me off. I’ll deal with all my anger later. They do not deserve to occupy my thoughts. Not when the beauty sitting beside me is radiating more happiness than I thought she ever would.

  “And if it’s not the perfect spot, I’m a damn fine pack mule and will make damn sure we find it.” I’ve scoured every inch of this beach. There isn’t a spot anywhere to not enjoy the sunset. I bite into the chicken and grin through the mouthful of grease and batter. “I’ll be right back. Going to run up to that vendor.”

  I point, showing her where I’m going. I jog up the beach with my fried chicken in my hand. Laughter escapes me realizing how much I’m enjoying this myself. Carefree and feet in the sand, life doesn’t get much better than this. I pick the most colorful kite I can find. Pull out a fifty and tell the vendor to keep the change.

  Amelia’s nibbling on a piece of chicken when I get back, staring out at the endless ocean. I toss the kite on the blanket then sink down behind her with my legs spread wide, pulling her back to me.

  “This is the perfect first date.” She lays her head back on my shoulder.

  “Yes, it is. I bought us a kite.” She peers up at me.

  Eyes fluttering to hold back tears.

  “Are you trying to relive your childhood, Doctor Hartley? I mean, surely, a man who's almost forty has to be hitting a midlife crisis soon.” She’s trying desperately to hold a serious expression on her face. I damn near lose my shit and double over laughing at it.

  “Is that right?” My voice is husky, causing her eyes to go wide.

  She gulps. Her tiny frame stiffening below me.

  “Amelia. If, and I mean if I hit a midlife crisis, I’ll be doing it knowing I have this stunning woman with a quirky sense of humor to bring me back to solid ground. I haven’t even begun to show you what this old man can do, and trust me when I say age doesn’t have a damn thing to do with it.”

  She was only joking around when she brought up my age, but this girl, this strong woman, brings out the best in me. My life was shit until I met her. Kidding or not, I want her to know that everything is possible when two people connect in a way that blows your Goddamn mind. No matter the age difference or that we’ve lived lives entirely opposite of one another.

  “I love you,” she says softly.

  I swear to God my heart bangs up against my ribs. It pounds like a wild man in my chest and fucking obliterates every word spoken between the two of us up until now.

  “Bluebird
, you have no clue how much I’m in love with you, too. I think I fell for you the minute you opened your eyes and pleaded for help without saying a word. I knew it then, and I know it now. There isn’t a woman on this earth who has made me happy the way you do. I won’t let anyone take away your right to soar higher than that kite next to you can. Every day, you amaze me more and more. You wake up, and I see the struggle behind your eyes. Fighting not to drop a plate, your coffee cup. Constantly fidgeting with your hands. You never say a word about it. You fight through it on your own. You are so brave. So beautiful that given the circumstances on how we met, I’ll die before I ever, and I mean ever, let you slip away from the woman you were born to be. Now, my plans have shifted once again. I need to take you home.”

  I reach down and wipe her tears away. I feel my own prickling behind the lids of my eyes. I may be a grown-ass man. But I’m a human nonetheless. A man who’s scared to death that with everything Amelia has been given today, that what I want to give her now will be more than she can take.

  “The sunset,” she whispers.

  “Have I ever mentioned patience is a weakness of mine?” I quirk up an eyebrow, feeling the easy nature float back in.

  “I kind of picked up on that, doctor.”

  “Sunset, then plans at home, stat.”

  “But the kite,” she counters right back.

  I brush away the random items scattered on the blanket and then flip her over until she’s on her back. I’m not going to hover over her body, not until she asks me to. Instead, I lie on my side next to her, placing soft kisses up and down her jawline.

  “Are you testing my patience, Bluebird?”

  “No,” she moans and then does something that’s just as powerful as the three words she just spoke moments ago. Her tiny palm reaches over grabbing my wrist. She tugs me closer, pulling on me until I’m on top of her. Her legs spread wide for me to settle between. My elbows in the blanket framing her gorgeous face.