I nod. “I think I can do that. I can be your friend. But I can’t promise you anything more than that right now, so you’ll just have to be patient with me.”
He smiles. “I’m not going anywhere, Charlie. Except maybe ten feet over there.” He gets up, pulling something out of his pocket. “Just wait here for a few minutes, okay? There’s something I have to do.”
He walks over and perches himself on Cat’s headstone, then he opens the box and pulls out a shiny metal harmonica and starts playing it. The song he plays is a lullaby. I can’t recall which one because my mother never sang them to me, but I recognize the tune. And he plays it expertly, like he’s done it a thousand times before this time. I stare at him, mesmerized by him. By his music. By his emotion. By his beauty.
He finishes the song and puts the harmonica back into the case. “I used to play for her when she was sad or colicky. Sometimes it was the only thing that would calm her down. So now I play every time I visit her. It makes me feel connected to her. And I like to think that somehow, she hears me playing and it brings her peace.”
My heart leaps inside my chest. How can I not give another chance to a man who plays the harmonica for his angel daughter? A man who would put himself in danger to make sure I don’t ruin the rest of my life. A man who not only accepted all of my secrets, but trusted me with his own.
And suddenly, I realize that I no longer have to envy Piper, Skylar and Baylor. Because, just as they found their knights in shining armor, perhaps I’ve just found mine.
Chapter Twenty-nine
I smile when Ethan walks toward me at the entrance to the park. This is our thing now, walking through Central Park on my days off. Well, that and swimming. And movies. And dinner. We’ve practically been joined at the hip—even though we’ve technically not been ‘joined’ at all.
The past month has been incredible. We’ve spent time together almost every day. But my favorite times with him are the times we just talk. Sometimes we can talk for hours on end, yet it seems like only minutes have passed.
He’s told me all about his childhood and what it was like to grow up with two doctors for parents. He told me about the trouble he and his brothers would get into when they were young. He explained to me how his parents moved to California to teach young resident missionaries at UCLA Medical Center. He didn’t go with them because of Cat, but it was there where Chad got discovered in the most random way.
We talk about everything. Even the hard stuff. And although he’s never asked for details about my past, I feel comfortable sharing bits and pieces of it with him. And even though he’ll never replace Piper, he’s slowly becoming a best friend to me. Someone with whom I feel safe. Someone whom I can trust.
Our walk through the park starts out like every other. We meander through our normal pleasantries and recaps of what we’ve done since we’ve been together—which was only yesterday. Then, I close my eyes and gather the courage I need to ask him about the one thing we’ve not talked about. Gretchen.
“There is something I’ve been wanting to ask you for weeks now,” I tell him.
He stops walking and crinkles his brow at me. “Anything, Charlie. You know that by now.”
“Um, okay.” I take a breath and prepare myself for what I may not want to hear. But then I chicken out and ask, “How old are you?”
He laughs, his smile revealing his gorgeous white teeth that complement his tanned face, a result of our long afternoon walks on my days off. “I’m twenty-seven.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “But why don’t you ask me what’s really on your mind.”
I roll my eyes at him. He’s come to know me well. I start walking again, not able to look directly at him when I ask, “You once told me you and Gretchen had a thing. What exactly does that mean?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod his head. “I was wondering when this would come up,” he says. “And I’m not sure how to say this without sounding like a complete douche and an insensitive prick considering your past, but, uh . . . guys have needs.”
My mind goes crazy thinking about how Barbie satisfied those needs. And if she’s still satisfying them.
He puts a gentle hand on my arm to stop my forward progress. “Charlie, I haven’t been with her for a while now. It had been months since I’d been with her when I met you. And I promise you, it was just sex. Mutually consensual and totally unemotional sex.”
He scrubs a hand across his jaw. “Shit. When I hear the words coming out of my mouth, I want to punch myself. But there’s really no other way to say it. When she came to work for me five years ago, she was married. There wasn’t even any attraction between us. But within a few months, her husband left her. He left because she couldn’t have children. It was a low time for her. And I hadn’t been with anyone since Cat died. I never wanted to risk a relationship, and I sure as hell didn’t want to risk another pregnancy. So I stayed away from women entirely. But one night, everyone in the office went out for drinks, and at the end of the night, Gretchen and I were the last two standing. She was drunk and she broke down, telling me the details about a car accident that had left her unable to conceive children. She said she hated all men and never wanted another relationship, but that she missed sex.
“So there we were, two young single people, neither wanting a relationship but both having an itch to scratch. And the fact that she couldn’t have children made her the perfect partner for me. So right then and there, we negotiated a deal of sorts. We would use each other for sex. No emotions. No relationship. No expectations.
“It worked out well for a long time. Years, in fact. Once a month or so, one of us would drop a key card off on the other one’s desk for a hotel room at the place around the corner. It was an ideal arrangement, one that suited both of us perfectly. That is until she started to have feelings for me.”
I knew it. I had suspected all along she was into him. The way she looks at me, like I’m the one thing standing between her and everlasting happiness. And damn it if currents of jealousy don’t crash into me like punishing ocean waves. “She’s in love with you?” I ask, my body stiff from the very thought of it.
“I wouldn’t say love, but yeah, she made it perfectly clear she wanted more. So I broke it off. Ended our arrangement. But she had been the perfect assistant, so I didn’t feel right asking her to leave. She’s been nothing but professional. Well, except maybe for the times she tried to keep you from seeing me. But in her defense, she has been told that no one gets in without an appointment.”
In her defense? He’s defending her. My heart sinks low in my chest.
He must sense my reaction because, to my surprise, he grabs my hand and holds it tightly in his. We don’t do this. We don’t hold hands. We haven’t touched that way since the day at the cemetery. Not one touch. Not one kiss. Not one embrace. He’s kept to his promise. His promise to be my friend. Earn my trust. Protect my heart.
But my heart doesn’t want to be protected anymore. It wants to be unleashed. His simple touch has me wanting to hold him. Kiss him. Claim him.
“Charlie,” he says, turning to me, taking my other hand so that he’s holding both of mine in his. “She’s history. She’s something that never was. The way I feel about you is unlike anything I’ve ever felt for any woman. Just spending time with you—swimming, walking, talking—just being with you, even without touching you, has been better than any time I’ve spent with anyone else.
“God, do you know how much I want you? Do you know how much I want to touch you? Kiss you? Every day is bitter-sweet torture. Every day I want to tell you how I feel about you. And every day I stop myself because I don’t think you’re ready. But, Charlie, you must know how I feel. I love you. I love you and I can’t hold it in anymore.” He pulls me against him. “I’m going to kiss you now. And I hope you’ll let me. Because these lips are all I think about. All I dream about. And I will die if you don’t let me have them.”
He leans down slowly, gauging my reaction, looking fo
r hesitation in my eyes that simply isn’t there. I want him to kiss me. Of course I do. I’ve wanted it for weeks. Hell, I’ve wanted it my whole life. And when his lips meet mine, I know I feel exactly the same way—that I’ll die if I can’t have him.
He kisses me hard. He kisses me soft. He kisses me with every emotion inside him. He kisses me so long, my lips go numb. He kisses me so passionately, my knees go weak. He kisses me so publicly, people laugh and whistle and clap when they walk by us. But I don’t care. He doesn’t care. Because it’s a kiss to end all kisses. It’s a kiss to begin new lives.
We finally break apart when someone yells at us to ‘get a room.’
I laugh. “I guess we broke rule number seven again.”
“Yes we did,” he says. “But rule number twelve takes precedence.”
“Rule number twelve?”
He smiles. “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”
“I like that one,” I say.
“Come on.” He takes my hand and pulls me down the path. “Let’s go grab some food.”
~ ~ ~
At work, I let my thoughts wander back to that conversation as I fill napkin holders and do other mindless tasks in preparation for the lunch rush. I try not to think about Gretchen and how she may or may not be head-over-heals in love with him. I try not to think about how they would slip away to the hotel around the corner and take care of each other’s needs. I try not to think about how he sees her every day at work.
A sick feeling washes over me and I race back to the bathroom to splash water on my face.
The door opens behind me and Skylar appears in the mirror. “Are you okay? God, Charlie—you look green.”
I grab a paper towel and dry off my face. “I’m fine,” I tell her. “Just thinking bad thoughts.”
She puts a knowing hand on my shoulder. Then she looks at her watch. “We’ve got some time before the lunch rush. Go in the back and sit down, take a few minutes if you need them.”
“Thanks, Skylar.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile as I exit the bathroom and head towards the back. I sit down and try to think about things that will keep my mind off Gretchen. Things like puppies and flowers and Reuben sandwiches with fries. Things like amazing kisses in the park. Things like Ethan telling me he loved me.
Things like me wanting to say it back.
Chapter Thirty
Ethan is being very patient with me. Even after that incredible day together. Even after we shared that earth-shattering kiss. Even after he told me loved me.
I’ve never said those words to a man before. I never thought I’d want to say them. But I do. I do so badly I can taste them on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I’m sure he won’t push me away again.
He’s taking me to dinner tonight, after my shift. It will be our first official date. Yes, we’ve dined together many times. We’ve been to the movies. We’ve gone to a baseball game. He even dragged me to another concert. But none of those were dates. We were getting to know each other. Taking it slowly.
Tonight, however, is different. Last night at the gym, he told me he wanted to take me out. Wine me. Dine me. Woo me, I think he called it. And then he said he would walk me to my door and kiss me goodnight. No pressure. No expectations.
No pressure. Right. I think of all the things I should do before our date, but don’t have time for. Pluck, wax, shave, moisturize. I know he said he would only walk me to the door, but I want to be ready. Ready for anything. Ready for everything.
Skylar watches me as Jarod and I roll silverware into linen napkins. She studies me so hard it starts to creep me out. “What?” I ask.
She walks over and pulls me by the elbow until we are alone in the kitchen, with the exception of Paul, the chef who is hard at work chopping and slicing. “You’re looking pale. Are you okay?”
I inventory how I’m feeling. I guess I am feeling a little run down, but that’s just because Ethan and I have been burning the midnight oil talking on the phone every night. “I’m fine,” I tell her.
Paul excuses himself for interrupting our conversation. He holds out a tasting spoon for Skylar, asking her to sample the beef stew he’s made for today’s special. I get a whiff of it and my stomach turns.
“Uhhhhhh,” I moan, putting a hand over my mouth as I dart out of the kitchen and run to the bathroom.
Skylar runs in after me just in time to see me puke into the toilet of the first stall. I didn’t even have time to shut the door. She comes up behind me, rubbing my back until I’m done. Then she fetches me a wet paper towel.
I wipe my mouth as I shake my head in confusion. “I don’t know what just happened,” I tell her. “One minute I was fine and then next . . .” I go to wash my hands. “I feel better now, though. You aren’t going to make me go home, are you? I’m sure it’s nothing. And I promise not to touch any food today.”
She eyes me up and down, chewing her lip the entire time.
“What?” I ask, worried she might make me leave and miss my shift.
“Are you pregnant?” she asks, looking me dead in the eye.
I guffaw. Then I shake my head in disbelief at her question. Then I guffaw again.
“What? I’m only asking.” She looks at her watch. “Because, Charlie, you felt sick at this exact same time yesterday. And now this. When I was pregnant, I had morning sickness like clockwork.”
“Morning sickness?” I look at her like she’s crazy. “I’m not pregnant, Skylar. I’m on the pill for Christ’s sake.”
Her eyes scold me like a child. “The pill isn’t always one-hundred-percent effective, you know. Do you have any other symptoms? Sore boobs, tiredness, missed period?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “Okay, yes, I’m tired, and maybe I’ve been a little sore, but it’s only because I’ve been staying up later than usual. And I swim a lot. Sometimes things hurt. And I had my period a few weeks ago. Plus, I haven’t had sex in months.”
“Swimming makes your boobs hurt?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” I pout.
She points to the chair in the corner of the bathroom. “Sit. I’ll be right back.”
“I’m fine, Skylar,” I say, scooting around her.
“You just threw up, Charlie. Sit down for a freaking minute. Stay here, I’ll be back in a flash.” She pushes me down onto the chair and gives me that big-sister stare that says I’d better do what she tells me.
Not twenty seconds go by when she returns to the bathroom, locking the main door behind her. “Here.” She shoves something in my face.
I take the box from her. It’s a pregnancy test. “What the fuck, Skylar? I’m not pregnant!”
“Then you won’t have any problem proving me wrong.” She grabs the box back from me, opens it, tears the plastic wrapper and pulls a stick out. She takes the cap off. “Pee on this end.”
I open my mouth to protest, but her hand comes up to silence me. “Just do it, Charlie. Humor me.”
“Fine.” I rip the stick out of her hand and open a stall. Then I turn around and narrow my eyes at her. “Why do you happen to have a pregnancy test here at work?”
She shrugs and then smiles. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Oh my God, you and Griffin are trying to have another kid?”
“We’re not trying, per se. But we’re not not trying. We just decided to roll the dice and see what happens.” She points to the stick in my hand. “Stick. Pee.” She pulls the door to the stall shut to give me privacy.
It takes me a minute. After all, there is immense pressure to pee on demand. Especially when you don’t want to comply with the order. There is no way in hell I could be pregnant. Skylar is delusional.
I finish my task and hand her the stick, not even the least bit embarrassed that I shoved something with my pee all over it into her hands. “Here, take it. See for yourself.”
I wash up and watch her in the mirror as she studies the stick. A minute later, her eyes meet m
ine and if sympathy were a living, breathing being, Skylar just gave birth to it.
“Shut the fuck up,” I say, reaching out to grab the stick from her. I read the word on the tiny screen. Pregnant.
“Oh my God,” I say, looking at the stick. “Oh my God.” I look up at Skylar. I sink to the floor, dropping the stick that just ruined my life onto the cold hard tile.
In an instant, Skylar is on the floor with me. “Charlie, it’ll be okay. It could be wrong, you know. Hormones can get out of whack. Let’s not jump to conclusions quite yet.”
She pulls out her phone and taps the screen a few times. “Hey, Joanie, this is Skylar Pearce. Can you please tell Dr. Chavis I’m calling in that favor she owes me? I need an appointment right away. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” She shoves the phone back in her pocket. “Dr. Chavis is my OB/GYN. I saved her ass last month when her caterer cancelled at the last minute. She owes me big time. She’s also the best OB in New York. You’ll be in good hands with her. No matter what happens.”
~ ~ ~
“Relax, Charlie,” Dr. Chavis tells me as she shoves a wand up my vagina.
I don’t even remember getting here. I have no recollection of how we came. Did we take the subway? A cab? The entire time, all I could think of was what my life was like as a child. All I could think of is how people say we become like our parents. I can’t have a kid. I could never be a mother. I wouldn’t even know where to start. What if the kid made me mad one day, would I get so angry I would hurt it?
I feel sick again and want to jump off the table when Skylar squeals in delight. “Oh, Charlie. Look!”
I turn my head to the computer screen and the doctor points to something in the middle of it. It’s a dark bubble with a blob in it. “There’s your baby,” the doctor says.
Stone Rules (A Mitchell Sisters/Stone Brothers Novel) Page 19
