"I hope you haven't locked it," he said calmly, far more calmly than he felt. "I would hate to have to break it down, but I'll do just that if you're not in my arms in about half a minute. I didn't come all the way across the country to lose you again behind some stupid piece of cheap plastic."
He heard her sniff noisily and stamp her small foot before she shoved the door open, almost hitting him in the face. "You make me crazy. You know that?" she demanded as she hurled herself into his arms for the second time that night.
"Then we make a good pair, because you have a very similar effect on me, little girl."
He steered her back to the roomy padded chair that was the only place to sit, save her neatly made futon, in the combination living room/bed room of her home. That chair had witnessed a lot of their interaction, he thought with a smile as they settled into it again.
He had bent her over its padded back for a serious encounter with his belt when she had sunk to the level of a tantrum-centered six-year-old. And he had sat in it and watched her struggle with the humiliation of time spent in the corner with a bar of soap in her mouth after she gave in to the temptation to use gutter language in his presence. She had emerged from both experiences a little further along the path to overcoming the wounds from her past and to facing the world as a productive and emotionally healthy adult. It was not a course of treatment society would have approved; it was a method that had appeared to work wonders for Andee, however, and he had been far less resistant to using it once he accidentally discovered her hidden books that were proof of her fascination with such discipline.
They had never talked about those books. They had never really talked about her response to his strict reactions where her behavior was concerned. That would have to come, he knew, but first they needed to deal with some deep hurts.
It amazed him to know she was the one who felt she had been wronged. How could she have mourned his absence that day of his abrupt departure when she had spoken about him with such contempt just a few hours before, he wondered. And how did he explain the depth of pain her comments had produced without bringing that bogeyman—his age—out of the shadows and into the room with them?
It was not a conversation he was looking forward to on any level, but he knew it had to take place.
When they were settled in the chair again, with Andee resting her head against his shoulder and hugging his encircling arm firmly to her breasts, he took a deep breath and began his story.
"My meeting at Buckley turned out to be a waste of my time. It's a good thing it was mainly just an effort by the owner to remind us who was boss, because I couldn't keep my mind on anything but you. I wanted to be in that doctor's office with you so badly. I knew in my mind that my being there wouldn't make a bit of difference in the outcome when he took the patches away, but I couldn't help feeling as though it would. And no matter what, I just wanted to be with you."
She snuggled a little more deeply against him with a happy wriggle.
"Not as much as I wanted you there. Remember how upset I was when you told me you couldn't come?"
He chuckled. "Of course. I remember every single one of your tantrums, missy. That one was just almost a disaster."
"Yeah. It felt that way to me, too," she said ruefully, recalling the stingy price she had paid.
"Anyway, I stood it as long as I could that afternoon, and then I made some excuse and left the meeting. I wasn't sure how long you would be at the doctor's office, but I decided to come here first and see if you were home. It was on the way, so I pulled in right out front and I was sitting there debating whether to keep waiting or leave and head over to the clinic when you and Leila came home. I knew, as soon as you got out of the car, that you could see. It was one of the best moments of my life, sweetie. I was going to give you time to get inside and sort of unwind with Leila for a minute and then I was going to come in and pray she would take the hint and leave us alone. But, then…"
This was the difficult part. The laughing, jeering words the two young women had exchanged echoed in his heart again and a painful lump grew there, just below the level of her chin.
"But you didn't come in," she said finally. "Why didn't you? Leila was only here a few minutes. I sent her away so we could be alone to celebrate."
"I left, Andee. Right after the two of you walked from her car and unlocked the door and stepped into this apartment, I left. Because I—I couldn't help overhearing your conversation."
She went very still in his lap for a moment and then sat up slowly, her brow creased and her eyes puzzled.
"I remember a little bit about that, and I guess some of the things I said weren't exactly complimentary, but I don't understand why you drove away. I can see where you might have felt like you ought to—well, you know—make me see the error of my ways, maybe even shaved up another bar of soap, but surely the things we said about old Haynesworth weren't so awful they made you walk out of my life."
He stared into her eyes for a minute, his own narrowing.
"What you said about wanting to throw up at the smell…"
"He's like being in the room with a wet dog. Didn't you notice?" she said and wrinkled her nose at the memory.
"And when you said, 'At least I don't need him anymore and I'm going to lock the door on that part of my life'?"
"He gave me the creeps. He always did. But especially after you left that day at the library. I was so afraid he was going to touch me or something. I couldn't wait to get away from him, and I never want to be alone with him ever again."
"It was Haynesworth you two were talking about? Haynesworth who Leila said was old enough to be your grandfather? That obnoxious little academic was the one you said it was so hard to be nice to all the time?"
"Oh, gee. Okay. I already admitted I know it wasn't very nice. Do you have to keep dragging up every nasty thing I said? I'm not proud of it, even if I really did mean it at the time, and I guess I still do. I can't help how he made me feel, though."
"Haynesworth," he whispered in wonder. "I almost lost you over Haynesworth. Oh, gawds, Andee. I have been such an idiot. Such a pathetic idiot, walking around with my feelings all balanced on my shoulder, just waiting to have them knocked off."
The green eyes widened in disbelief and her lips parted into a perfect circle of amazement. "You thought I was talking about you?" she whispered. "You thought I was talking about you!" she screeched, grabbing his face between her hands. "Look me in the eye, Mr. Nicholas Benjamin, and tell me how on earth you thought I could ever say such things about you. Right this minute, tell me, before I throw the biggest fit I've ever thrown. And don't you even think about threatening me with a span… with anything, you awful man, you! You owe me that freebie after all these months of torture."
"I did." He said it quietly and simply.
She collapsed against him, laughing hysterically. "You should write a book about it. Except no one would believe it. Ohhh. Just my luck to fall for a complete imbecile, a total idiot, a perfect fool." And then she grew very still again, realizing she had used words that summoned up images of commitment, had put her heart on the line, face to face, for someone who might feel honor bound to return it to her gently.
"Andee," he said in the voice that had lived in her dreams since the first time she heard it, "I am exactly what you say, but I'm an imbecile, an idiot, a fool with a heart that has never cared about anyone the way I care about you. Can you forgive me, little girl?"
"I'm thinking about it," she said. "And I'm thinking I really don't have any other choice, you know, because I refuse to give you up again. Fool though you are."
He hugged her to him, joy he never expected to experience again flooding his heart and soul. "Only for you, sweet girl. Only and always for you."
Chapter Two
He had left her again. Despite all her pleas, he was gone.
Nick had insisted, once they had thoroughly celebrated their reunion with deep kisses and fervent hugs, that she get ready for bed. He had
even tucked her in and then taken a seat on the floor, his back resting against the edge of the futon so his head was close to Andee's as she curled into her pillow. It was the first time she had gone to bed without tears soaking that piece of foam in months.
He had read to her. He would have chosen Romeo and Juliet. She was adamant and won her way with the first two chapters of A Disciplined Affair. The author's name, emblazoned across the colorful and textured glossy cover, was Tracy Topping. It was a best seller and the talk of the commercial book trade. Oprah wannabes were clamoring to have the author appear with them to discuss the story.
Both of them knew that would never happen.
Nick could recite most of the novel without paying much attention at all to the page—pages that were worn from constant thumbing and smudged with odd stains that Andee claimed were most definitely not streaks of filling from gooey chocolate bars or greasy thumbprints from chips or pizza crust at all, but smears from juicy fresh fruit and low fat cheese instead.
He had voiced his doubts with a quirked eyebrow, but she had convinced him it wasn't an argument he wanted to pursue simply by nibbling on his lower lip with soft little kisses while she used her fingertips to tickle a sensitive spot below and just behind his ear, where his hair tended to curl right before he needed a cut.
"I always knew when you were giving me that look, and I always figured it involved your eyebrow," she confided to him.
"No way. Not behind those pads you were wearing."
"Way. You should try being blind sometime. You'll be surprised what you can pick up on from the sounds people make, even without using their mouths. Did you know you sort of puff a little breath through your nose when you do that thing with your eyebrow? I just knew that's the expression you had to have on your face every time I heard that snorty thing, even though I had no idea what your face looked like. Now I know I was right on the money. It's exactly what you do."
He had grinned at her. "You never cease to amaze me. Nothing gets past you. Except me, when I'm sitting in my car right in front of your door."
"Yeah. Well, I did really blow that one. But it's not like I could smell you, or hear you, or just feel you from that far away, you know. Plus, I was sort of distracted by all the good stuff running around in my head at that point. The stuff I couldn't wait to tell you all about."
"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I took the coward's way out. I should have just jumped out of that car and confronted you, should have asked what you meant and straightened it all out then and there. But it never occurred to me there was anyone you could be talking about except me. The things you were saying played into my own insecurities and fears so well, I just gave in to some very wrong assumptions. Still, I should have known you weren't the kind of person who could be so heartless."
"You certainly should have. I was wearing that very heart on my sleeve for you and instead of noticing that, you picked up on something that had nothing to do with you. You should be ashamed, Mr. Benjamin. Very ashamed."
"I am. Believe me. But also very relieved. Odd juxtaposition, that. And you, little girl, should have been spanked for saying such naughty things about anyone. Anyone at all."
She simpered. "You would never have done it, though. Not with Leila there. She's my ace in the hole."
"Hmph! Don't be too sure of yourself. If you misbehave in public, you may have to pay the price in public someday, missy."
An odd little reaction had raced along all her girly parts at that and she shivered a bit. It was a response he noticed immediately, but he kept the information to himself and simply returned to the book.
When his voice began to tire, he closed the well-worn pages and eased himself up onto the futon beside her, leaning over to gather her into his arms and delight in the feel of her.
"I didn't think I would ever hold you again," he confessed.
She snuggled into his embrace. "You can make up for lost time. I'm available for holding, you know. All night long."
"Yes, I'm very much aware of that, sweetheart. But I'm not sure either of us could be content with just that for very long. I want you to go to sleep now. I'm going to take this worn out body home and put it to bed for at least eight hours, provided no noisy neighbors have moved in during my absence."
"But I thought—I mean, I want you to stay here." She pulled away and pouted.
"Don't tempt me, sweetie. There's nothing I want more, but it's not the best thing for you, I don't think."
"I think it's the best possible thing for me. I'll scooch over and you can crawl in right beside me. You won't even have to sleep on the floor."
He laughed. "I didn't mind your floor so much, although I have to admit sharing your bed would be much nicer. But don't rush it, little one. There are so many ways I want to show you how I feel. Let me do them within my concept of honor. It will be worth it, I promise, old-fashioned as it is."
"I'm not believing this. It's like something out of the Victorian age, right here in the twenty-first century."
"Maybe so. But it's me. Can you trust me to do what's best for you?"
"Oh, I can trust you, but I think you need to know I'm really, really unhappy about it. Am I allowed to show you how totally frustrated it makes me?"
His had quirked his eyebrow. "Only if you're prepared to pay the price. You might want to think about it overnight and decide how important it is to you to be able to sit down at your job tomorrow. If you're still in a tantrum mood in the morning, call me after nine and I'll come over and straighten out your thinking for you."
Her disgruntled 'hmph' won her nothing but a laugh and a chaste kiss on her forehead. But when she threw her arms around him, he followed her down to her pillow and kindled another blaze with kisses that were definitely twenty-first century style.
"You could make me forget my mother raised a gentleman," he said when they finally had to come up for air. "Now mind me and go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Won't I?"
She had nodded, torn between her pleasure in his loving and her pain at his leaving. "No classes tomorrow, and I don't go in to work until two."
"Classes?"
"Yeah. I hadn't had time to tell you. I'm taking two courses that will help me get a degree in library science. With the general studies diploma I got in the spring, it won't take a lot more. I found out I really love books and I really love the library. I guess that's your fault."
He beamed at her. "Have I told you how proud I am of you? This is great news. But you're not planning to cut class because of me, are you?"
"Of course not," she sighed and rolled her eyes. "I know that wouldn't be mature behavior. No classes, but you can still come and read my next assignment to me, just like old times. I'll have breakfast ready by ten, and I won't be able to stand being away from you one minute longer than that, so make sure you're on time. The Diet Coke will be iced to perfection and the chocolate Pop Tarts will be warm and gooey."
He moaned. "Just try feeding me a breakfast like that, missy, and see how I deal with your poor taste. Now settle down. I'm turning out your light and locking your door on my way out."
Andee had given as much of a flounce as she dared when he stood up, and she yanked the cover to her ears. "Go ahead and leave me then. See if I care. But I'm not going to sleep. I'm going to lie here all night thinking up ways to lure you into my bed. And I'll get what I want, Mr. Nicholas Benjamin. I always do."
"You know," he said, clicking off the light and setting the lock on her door, "I'm sure that's been true all your life to this point. But I'm here to give you something better—everything you need and deserve, little one. Don't ever forget that. Now, sleep tight and wake up remembering how happy you make me."
That was the thing that finally sent her into tears again, as soon as he was gone. They were the first happy ones she had ever cried for him, and they were very effective at washing away the first layer of several deep hurts in Andee Carlisle's young life.
*****
The home on the quiet street
lined with oaks the developers had obligingly left standing years before was stuffy from months of disuse. It seemed sterile and unwelcoming in contrast to the simple log cabin he had left behind in Tennessee, but Nick's only concerns, once he unlocked the door and let himself into its overheated interior, were an adjustment to the thermostat, a lukewarm shower and a cool-sheeted bed.
Had he not remembered to set the alarm, he was quite sure he would have overslept Tuesday morning from simple exhaustion. It had been months since he had rested properly, and even the natural sleep aides he had resorted to after receiving Andee's life-changing email a few weeks before had not been able to calm his mind and heart into peaceful slumber during the time he was agonizing over his course of action.
Now that he had held her in his arms, kissed her sweet lips, and heard her explanation for the conversation that had stabbed so deep, he had finally been able to relax into a calm and restorative sleep.
Staring into the mirror as he ran a blade across his chin, he had the oddest sensation of looking into the eyes of a stranger. It took a moment to realize he was seeing a happy man's reflection, for a change. The emotional transformation seemed to have erased years from his face.
He found himself singing Seger's Hummin' Bird tribute under his breath and laughed out loud as he wheeled out of the driveway and headed for Andee's apartment, three miles away near the university campus. It was absurd, this lovesick teenage behavior he was exhibiting. He rejoiced in every beautiful moment of it.
Nick made a quick stop for strawberries and granola with a touch of honey, plus a carton of fresh-squeezed orange juice, just in case she had been serious about toasting him with Diet Coke and offering him a pastry that made a mockery of the name. Then he was on the way again, with minutes to spare before Andee's deadline.
She yanked open the door as soon as he pulled into a vacant parking space in front of her corner apartment and then adopted the most seductive pose she could manage, lounging against the frame, for his benefit. An appreciative smile lit up his face as he stepped out of the car and noticed the chocolate frosting moustache she sported above her upper lip and the moisture-coated silver soft drink can she was seductively stroking across the deep divide just visible in the scoop neck of her skin-tight leotard.
Leading Her Home (Lessons From Nick's Firm Hand Book 2) Page 2
