by Marie Sexton
While I waited for my food, I got online and checked his accounts. I found that two days earlier, he had booked a flight from Paris to New York. It wasn’t hard to check the flight number on the airline’s webpage. He would be arriving in New York late tomorrow afternoon. I wondered if he would spend his nights with Raul while he was there. The thought made that pain in my chest flare to life, and I pushed it away.
“We already made the reservations!” The statement caught my attention. It came from the table next to me where a young couple was having lunch together. The man was wearing a suit and had a briefcase leaning against the legs of his chair. The woman was fighting tears. It was she who had spoken. She was talking in a forceful whisper, obviously trying to keep her voice down, but unable to keep it completely under control. “We’ve been planning this trip for months!”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked her. “If I say no, they’ll give the account to Connor.”
“So let them!”
“Claire, you’re being unreasonable. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for. The chance we’ve been waiting for—”
“The only thing I’ve been waiting for is our anniversary!”
“Maybe next year—”
“That’s what you said last year!”
“You can still go, Claire. You may as well use the tickets.”
“By myself?”
“Sure. Why not? You’ll have fun. Maybe Carrie can go with you—” His phone rang, interrupting him. Claire sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks.
That stupid man actually took the call. “This is Mike.”
It reminded me of my first date with Cole, when he had walked out. I had been such an ass, so caught up in the rat race that I couldn’t even enjoy dinner. But even with my phone ringing non-stop, he had still given me his number and told me to call.
What if he hadn’t been willing to give me that second chance?
What if I’d never taken it?
Mike was still talking. “Of course, sir. It’s not a problem at all, I assure you.”
Claire stood up, grabbed her purse, and walked out of the café.
Mike didn’t follow.
And suddenly, with painful clarity, I realized what an idiot I really was. Julia had said it. My father had said it. Why it had taken me until now to realize that they were right, I didn’t know.
More than ten years earlier, in an apartment in Colorado, I had packed a bag and walked out the door, leaving my own cat behind—not because I didn’t want her, but because I was sure I wasn’t really leaving for good. I was sure Zach would beg me to come back. I waited and waited, missing him the whole time.
He never called.
My own failure to act had cost me the man I loved once already in my life. But had I learned my lesson? Apparently not. Here I was, older but no wiser, waiting for Cole to realize that he loved me as much as I loved him. Waiting for him to realize that we were meant to be.
Waiting for him to call.
What if he never did?
I was unwilling to admit that we might be over. But if I waited for him to admit he was wrong or to change his wandering lifestyle, I would be waiting the rest of my life.
I made my plane reservation before I even left the café. I went straight to Julia’s house when I got home.
“I need you to watch my house for a while. Can you do that?”
“Of course.” It had been months since I had traveled anywhere, but she still had the key. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll call you.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going after him.”
She smiled at me. “It’s about damn time.”
THE flight from Phoenix to New York was six hours long. Six hours to contemplate all the ways this could end.
Every minute was an exercise in patience. Pre-boarding made my heart pound. Finding my seat made my palms sweat. The take-off almost caused me to hyperventilate—there was no turning back now. I was given a bag of pretzels (because peanuts were no longer allowed), and a tiny shot of Sprite on the rocks. What I really needed was a Valium, but I was pretty sure the stewardess didn’t have those on her rickety little cart.
Every choice I had ever made had led me here, to this airplane.
Everything I wanted in the world was at the other end of this unbelievably terrifying cross-country flight. What if it all went wrong?
What if he didn’t want me?
I rented a car at the airport and headed for his home in the Hamptons. After the nerve-wracking flight, my arrival at an empty house seemed oddly anticlimactic.
Cole had told me his house was small for the Hamptons. It was certainly less ostentatious than many of the other homes in the area, but it was probably still worth at least a cool million. It was a nice ranch-style home with large, open rooms and an unbelievable kitchen that had probably been remodeled to his exact specs. I was surprised to find the underwater picture from our New York visit hanging in the living room. I went in search of the bedroom, and what I found there made me smile. Even though it was summer, there was a thick comforter on the bed. And on the wall was a different photo from the same gallery—a photo of drifts of snow among leafless aspen.
In the back yard, I found a pool surrounded by a small, perfectly manicured lawn and a gorgeous array of flowers.
I also found the gardener.
Cole had said if I saw him, I would understand, and he was right.
He was in his early twenties with deeply tanned skin and jet-black hair.
He was wearing only canvas tennis shoes and a pair of incredibly short cut-off jeans. He was on his knees, pulling weeds from one of the flowerbeds. His body was strong and muscular and absolutely amazing.
He looked up at me with the face of some ancient god, and I stopped short.
“Hey,” he said, smiling at me.
I tried to smile back, but failed miserably. “You must be Raul.”
“You must be the boyfriend,” he said lightly.
“What makes you say that?”
His smile was open and friendly, and he shrugged and turned back to the flowers. “Let’s just say I haven’t taken care of anything but the lawn for a very long time.”
And suddenly I found that I could smile at him after all.
I was in the kitchen doing my best imitation of cooking when I heard Cole come in. I stood there, listening to him rattle around the living room, and tried to get up enough courage to face him. This was what I had come all the way to New York for. I couldn’t exactly back out now. I hoped for a minute that he would save me the effort of making a decision by coming into the kitchen, but he didn’t. In fact, whatever he was doing, I couldn’t hear him anymore at all. I stepped quietly through the doorway into the living room.
His back was to me. He had already taken his shoes off and was standing barefoot, going through the stack of mail Margaret had left for him on the dresser by the door. I knew I should say something, but I found that I couldn’t make my voice work. It had only been six weeks since I had seen him last, but it felt like ages. I felt like he should have looked different somehow, but he didn’t. His clothes were the same, his hair was the same. The slender lines of his body were the same. I found myself hoping like crazy that he smelled the same too.
I wasn’t sure what to say to him, but I was dying to touch him. I took a few slow and hesitant steps toward him. On about the fourth one, the floor creaked under my foot just a bit.
“Margaret, is that you?” he asked. And then he turned and practically ran right into me.
He jumped about a foot backward and bumped into the dresser behind him. The only reason it didn’t tip over was because it was against the wall. “Good lord, Jon! You scared me out of my wits!”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said. I had caught him enough off his guard that he had actually said my name, and I couldn’t help but smile. He seemed to real
ize it at the exact same moment, because his cheeks turned red and he turned quickly away from me.
“How in the world did you know I would be here?” he asked.
“I have access to all of your accounts. I saw the charge when you booked the flight.”
“And did you find the door open, or are you perfecting your lock- picking skills?” I could hear that lilting cadence starting to creep back into his voice as he started to put his walls back in place.
“I sign Margaret’s paychecks. It wasn’t hard to convince her to let me in.”
He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “Why did you come?”
I stepped closer to him. He didn’t move, and when I put my hands on his arms, he tensed noticeably. I hesitated a moment, not wanting to push him too far, too fast, but I had waited so long. I couldn’t stand not to touch him. I stepped close enough that I could put my nose into his hair and smell the strawberry shampoo he used. Such a ridiculously stupid thing, but smelling it almost brought tears to my eyes. It was hard to speak. “I came to tell you that I’m not letting you run from me anymore.”
“Is that what I’ve been doing?”
“Yes. And I was stupid enough to let you. But not anymore. We belong together, and you know I’m right.”
“It’s a terrible idea, darling,” he said shakily. “Really. It will never work.”
“It’s not a terrible idea, and you know it. You’re just being stubborn.”
“You’ll get tired of me, love, and—”
“Stop!” I said, and was surprised when he actually fell silent.
“Ever since we met, we’ve done things your way. I’ve always let you call the shots. But I’m not letting you destroy what we have just because you’re scared.” I felt him start to tremble then, and I wrapped my arms around him. “I—”
“Don’t say it!”
“—love you. I want to be with you. I hate being apart. I hate not being able to touch you. I hate wondering where you are and what you’re doing. And more than anything, I hate not knowing when you’ll finally come home.”
“I don’t like being apart, either,” he said in a shaky whisper, “but I can’t possibly stay in Phoenix, darling. Not all the time.”
“I know.”
“What will you do when I leave?”
“I’ll follow.”
He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke again, I could hear hope in his voice. “Anywhere?”
“Everywhere.”
His breath caught, and he tried to pull away from me, but I tightened my grip around him. He stilled again, but he was straining away from me, his breath ragged, and I knew he was trying desperately not to cry in front of me again. “Let me go,” he whispered, but I only held him tighter.
“Stop fighting it, Cole. Stop fighting me.”
“I hate for you to see me like this,” he said shakily.
I put my lips against the birthmark on the back of his neck and felt him shiver. “I don’t mind. You don’t have to hide from me, Cole.
You don’t have to pretend. I know the part of you that you let the world see, and I know what’s underneath. I know you think you have to keep it hidden, and it only makes me love you more.”
He went a little bit limp in my arms then, and I felt him trembling. I could feel that wall between us crumbling down as he finally let go and allowed the tears to come.
“I’m a mess,” he said, halfway joking but halfway not. “I’m demanding and temperamental and I’m terribly high maintenance.”
I laughed without even meaning to. “Do you honestly think I don’t know all that by now?”
“Then how could you possibly love me?”
I held him tighter, kept kissing his neck. “How can I not?” I asked. It had been so long since I’d been able to touch him. Part of me just wanted to hold him all night. The other part of me wanted only to drag him into the bedroom and tear his clothes off, throw him on the bed and make love to him forever. “Cole,” I whispered, “I can’t live without you.”
“That’s rather cliché, isn’t it, darling?”
“That doesn’t make it any less true. I need you.”
“Why?”
“To make fun of me when I’m being too serious. To remind me that there are more important things in life than climbing the corporate ladder.”
“I’m quite sure you could manage without me, love,” he said, and
I was glad to hear the term of endearment, because it meant he was giving in.
“Who else is going to make sure that I don’t drink Chianti with lobster Alfredo?” I asked, and he laughed. “I love you, and I won’t let you stop me from saying it.”
It took him a moment and one deep, shaking breath to answer. “I don’t want to stop you,” he said quietly. “Not really.”
That caused a lump to form in my throat. I held him tighter. I put my lips against that butterfly on the back of his neck and said again, “I love you.”
And finally, he relaxed in my arms completely. He leaned back against me with a soft sigh of surrender, and I knew then that I had won. “Jonathan,” he said quietly, “I love you too.”
All of the fear and anxiety I had felt coming here, and the nervousness at seeing him, and the relief of getting to hold him again, and the happiness at finally hearing those words and knowing that I had him back—it was all too much. Suddenly I was the one fighting not to cry, and he must have sensed it, because he turned around and pulled me close.
“I haven’t missed you at all,” I managed to say in a hoarse whisper.
“I haven’t missed you either,” he said quietly. “Certainly not every single minute of every single day.” His arms were tight around me and mine around him. His skin was soft and warm, and his hair smelled like strawberries like it always did. And everything about it felt right.
“Please don’t leave me again,” I begged, and my voice broke on the words.
“I never wanted to leave you at all, love.”
“Then why?”
“I couldn’t stay. And you were too proud to come with me.”
“But….” I had to stop and think about that, and it helped me calm down. It helped me get my bearings again. He was right. He had asked me twice to come with him. But I was too proud to allow him to support me. And with a regular office job, I would have been tied to Phoenix. I never would have had the freedom to come after him if it weren’t for the job I had, working for him. I pulled away enough to see his face. “But you gave me the job—”
“It was sheer luck that Chester decided to retire, but I hoped it would change your mind.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
“I felt like it had to be your idea.” He shrugged. “Maybe it was foolish. But I was afraid you would think I was using the job to manipulate you, and I really did want you to take it. I knew I could trust you, whether you came after me or not.” He put his arms around my neck and brushed his lips over mine. “I’ve been waiting for you for ages, love,” he said. “I’d almost given up. What on earth took you so long?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Either I’m an idiot or you really need to work on your communication skills.”
He smiled. “I suppose it could be a little of both.”
“I met Raul today.”
“And?”
“I may have to fire him.”
He laughed. It was so good to hear. Already, I felt like we were back to normal. Like everything was perfect. I put my arms around him and I pulled him close. I kissed his neck, and he tipped his head back to give me better access to the soft skin there. “I made you dinner,” I said as I kissed him.
“Oh my,” he said jokingly. “Is it frozen pizza?”
“I wish I could say it was sautéed pasta with lobster. But it’s actually sloppy joes.”
“And the wine?”
“I bought the Arbor Mist Peach Chardonnay.”
“Well that’s just dreadful, darling. The Black
berry Merlot is obviously the better choice.”
“They were sold out.” My hands were wandering now. I pulled up his shirt just to feel the smooth skin of his back. I pushed him back so he was sitting on the dresser behind him, and he wrapped his legs around my hips and let me push against him. “I know you’re probably starving, and I should let you eat. But I can’t wait to get these clothes off of you.”
“I’m not sure what to tell you,” he said. “I am rather hungry, but
I’m quite sure I smell your sloppy joes burning. I suspect they’re quite inedible by now.”
I unbuttoned his pants as I kissed him. I pushed my hand into his open fly, caressing the bulge in his briefs. “There’s always frozen pizza.”
His breath caught for a moment, and then he said breathlessly,
“How about we skip dinner and go straight to dessert?”
“Strawberries?”
“What a perfect choice, love.”
“I haven’t been able to eat them since you left.”
“And do they still have the same effect on you?” he asked with a wicked grin.
“As a matter of fact, they do.”
He laughed as he put his arms around my neck and pulled me close. “I’m incredibly happy to hear that.”
Date: September 30
From: Cole
To: Jared
Good lord, Sweets, can you please stop being so smug? If you gloat any more I imagine you’ll become absolutely unbearable. Tell that big angry cop you live with that I’m sorry I turned his sweet loving partner into such a know-it-all. As if he didn’t hate me enough already.
Yes, fine, I admit it, you’re right. Jonathan and I are back together, and everything is peaches (and strawberries). The truth is, I’ve never been happier. And no, I will not thank you for it. You’re intolerable enough already!
