Bridge to Forever

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  He arrived at his office in Orem, sneaking in the back door so he wouldn’t have to see anyone. During normal hours he wouldn’t have succeeded, but since it was only seven, most of the employees hadn’t arrived. They were crowded into every nook and cranny and would stay that way until the new building near Utah Lake was finished. He hoped it would be soon.

  Glancing at his clock, he saw he was late to call Tanner to make sure he left in time for the bus. He rang the house in Alpine, but there was no answer, so Damon was sure his son had caught the bus on time.

  The morning dragged by. Twice he found himself nodding off, and more than once he found himself thinking of Mickelle. By noon he could stand it no longer. He was going over to her house and talk to her whether she wanted to listen or not!

  He met his partner Jesse in the hall with Brionney. They pulled apart a bit quickly, and Damon knew he’d interrupted a kiss.

  “Hi, Damon.” Brionney smiled at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “Don’t mind me, I’m just leaving.”

  Jesse watched her leave, shaking his head. “Fastest lunch we ever had. I never thought we’d go to a McDonald’s drive-in for a lunch date.” He lifted the McDonald’s bag in his hand. “Mickelle told her a story about a friend of hers who had twins drown in the bathtub, and it really scared Brionney. She left the twins with my mother, but because of that story, she’s afraid to be without them for long.”

  “Even with her mother?”

  “It’ll wear off after she warns everyone about giving them baths.” Jesse grinned. “Actually, I’m glad she’s worrying about it so I won’t have to. That story was pretty tragic. Don’t know what I’d do if I lost my boys.”

  Damon clapped his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “It’s probably just a story. You know how these things go around. Some woman must have made it up to warn her husband from leaving the kids in the bath.”

  “Yeah, could be. But it seems I remember reading about a similar incident in the newspaper. Been a while, though.”

  Damon could smell the aroma coming from the fast food bag and his stomach growled so loudly that Jesse heard it. “Here,” he said, shoving the bag at Damon. “Sounds like you need this more than I do.” He started for the exit where his wife had disappeared.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “To take my wife and sons out for a real lunch,” Jesse threw the words over his shoulder. “After all, I just signed up two more hospitals for our program while you were taking it easy last weekend. I deserve a break.”

  Damon felt an intense rush of jealousy, but Jesse had given him an idea. Surely if he arrived on Mickelle’s doorstop with a lunch invitation, she couldn’t refuse. Better yet, he’d show up with Chinese food. She loved Chinese, and, knowing her, it was unlikely she would send him away.

  Removing the burger from the bag, Damon took a bite. No use letting this food go to waste.

  As he waited in the drive-up for the Chinese food, he called his attorney to see if he already had the goods on Mr. Cover Boy. He didn’t but promised to have something later in the day. Damon was sure it was just a matter of time.

  * * *

  When the doorbell rang just before lunch, Mickelle was still in her gardening attire—an old sweatshirt and stained jeans with rips in the knees. She opened the door anyway, expecting a neighbor or the mailman.

  “Damon!” She was ashamed for him to see her this way, especially in light of the conversation she wanted to have with him.

  Or did she? Now that he was standing in front of her, her heart was racing so quickly she couldn’t think straight. She longed for him to take her into his arms, yet at the same time the feeling frightened her.

  No, I’m through all that fear, she told herself, but her thundering heart told another story.

  As though sensing her nervousness, he held up a large bag in his hand. “I brought lunch. I hope you haven’t eaten.”

  She glanced down at her clothing. “Not yet. I was in the garden.” As she spoke, she stepped back from the door and let him in. She passed through the short entryway and entered the kitchen. “Want a tomato?” On the counter, next to the three dozen golden roses, sat a huge wicker basket full of red tomatoes.

  He laughed, but his eyes were focused on the roses.

  Mickelle knew she had to speak. “About the flowers,” she said. The bag in his hand froze halfway to the counter. “About my friend Colton . . .”

  Damon set the bag on the counter and faced her, his amber-brown eyes uncommonly rigid. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about him, Mickelle. Look, I know you like this guy, but I don’t trust him. He’s hiding something. I feel it.”

  This tactic took Mickelle by surprise. It also made her angry. “I think I’m old enough to choose my friends. There is something in his past that was very traumatic, and his twin sons died because of it, but he’s a good man. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him . . . as a friend. He’s been nothing but help with my insurance company.”

  Damon glanced again at the bouquet of roses. His nostrils flared slightly as he took a deep breath. “I think you should know I’m having someone check into his background.”

  “You’re what?” She couldn’t be hearing him right. Riley would have done something like this. He would assume that she didn’t know what she was doing, and he would try to control her life.

  “You heard me. I’m having him checked out.”

  “You’re jealous!”

  “Dang right, I’m jealous.” Damon’s face was heated now, his amber eyes fierce. He folded his arms obstinately over his chest. “I don’t know what sort of story Mr. Cover Boy has told you, but I know his type—so oily, you can’t get him off you. He wants something, mark my words.”

  The insinuation increased Mickelle’s own anger. “Is it so hard to believe that he would be interested in me?”

  His bushy eyebrows rose, as did his voice. “Hard? Not a bit. Any man in his right mind would be lucky to have you. But that pretty boy isn’t worth the fake designer clothes he wears, and I don’t think you’re in any position to recognize it.”

  “Why, because I’m not as smart or as rich as you are?”

  “It has nothing to do with money!” he bellowed. “And in case you haven’t figured it out, I’m doing this because I care about you. I love you.”

  “Well thank you for spelling that out Mr. Billionaire!” Mickelle shouted back. “You certainly have a funny way of showing it!” She was trembling with rage, as though all of her pent up emotions in the past week were bursting forth in one huge explosion.

  “Then how’s this?” He pulled her to him firmly and kissed her passionately on the mouth, his lips molding against hers as though they had been created to be this close. “Did he kiss you like this?” His moustache brushed her skin, sending a shuddering warmth over her entire body. “Does he make you feel the way I do?” Cupping the back of her head with one hand and placing the other on her back, he kissed her neck, cheeks, and eyes. Then he found her mouth again and his kiss deepened, urgently seeking. For a delicious moment Mickelle reveled at being kissed so thoroughly, at being held so firmly in his arms. When at last he drew away, she moaned softly.

  She opened her eyes and found him watching her, smiling gently, knowingly. She hated that he could read her need for him so plainly. “Please leave.” Keeping her voice steady and devoid of emotion wasn’t easy.

  “I love you, Mickelle,” he said. “I will always love you.” In his eyes Mickelle now saw sadness, a deep longing for something that went beyond mere intimacy, but she stifled the urge to reach out to him. She was still angry that he was checking up on her, and angry that he should kiss her that way when she was upset—and more livid at herself for responding.

  Without another word, he sauntered to the door. She stayed where she was, unmoving. On the back of her head and neck, she felt the imprint of his fingertips as he had held her to him during their kiss. Her face tingled where his lips had touched her skin. At once, she wished desperately that
she could tell him what was in her heart—both her fears and her growing feelings toward him.

  But he was long gone.

  Her eyes went to the large white bag Damon had set on the counter. Slowly she opened it, and tears threatened when she saw the chopsticks and cartons of Chinese food. He knew her so well!

  She was too angry to let this realization stem the flow of her frustration. Taking the bag, she shoved it into the refrigerator. When Damon came to pick up his children that evening, she would have them give it to him.

  So there, Mr. Smarty Pants Billionaire.

  Mickelle had scarcely finished changing into a clean pair of jeans and a bright blue, long-sleeved, ribbed turtleneck when the doorbell rang again. This time it was Colton. She raised an eyebrow in surprise, trying to switch gears. Her emotions with Damon had been running high, and it was a decided letdown to see Colton standing there instead of Damon. “Hello. What’s up?”

  He waved something in the air. “I got it! One hundred thousand dollars and it’s all yours.” He handed her something that looked like a checkbook.

  She glanced inside at the balance with all those zeros, and hugged him. “Oh, thank you!”

  “Now all we have to do is get it invested for you. I’ve asked my friend to come over, if that’s all right.”

  Mickelle felt an abrupt, sick feeling inside. “I think I’d rather go in to see him. You know, check out his office, the company. I know you trust him, but I’m new at this. To me this is an awful lot of money.”

  Darn that Damon! She knew it was because of him she was being so cautious. Damon seemed to forget that if it weren’t for Colton, she wouldn’t even have the money.

  “I don’t have a problem with that.” Colton was suddenly very close, too close for comfort, especially after her encounter with Damon. Mickelle stepped back into the entryway as he continued, “I’ll just give him a call and we can schedule an appointment tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’ll give you the name of his company so you can check out their reputation. I’ll write down his number too, so you can talk to him personally. I’m confident we can safely get you at least sixteen percent return a year from your money. That’s what . . . about sixteen thousand a year?”

  Mickelle shook her head in amazement. Given those numbers, it might be better not to pay off the house, but to make mortgage payments with the interest earnings. Was this how Damon’s wealth kept multiplying?

  She grinned at Colton, feeling happy. He smiled back and said, “You’re beautiful when you smile.” There was a tenderness in his eyes that she couldn’t mistake.

  “Colton, look,” she began.

  He shook his head. “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. It’s because of what happened with my boys, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, no!” Mickelle put a hand on his arm. “Don’t think that for a minute. It’s just that I’ve been dating a man—the father of the children I watch—and last Friday he asked me to marry him. Right now I’m angry with him, and—” She recalled for a clear second her response to Damon’s urgent kiss, and had to shake her head to clear it. “It’s not fair to let you think I’m interested in a relationship with you. I don’t even know if I’m ready for any relationship, but I have to resolve whatever it is between him and me. Do you understand?”

  “Is this an excuse?” The words were obviously painful for him, and for a moment he resembled the wounded hero in a romance film. “I know it’s a hard thing to take, my past. Would it help if I tell you I’ve learned from my mistakes? That I would be a good father if given another chance?”

  Mickelle was dismayed at this turn in the conversation. “Wait. Stay right here. I’ll show you.” She ran down the hall to her room and found Damon’s ring. Quickly, she brought it back to Colton. “See?” she said, showing it to him. “He gave me this ring.”

  Colton let the air rush out of his lungs. “Wow, that is some impressive stone.”

  “I know.”

  “Unless it’s fake.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “That’s probably worth more than your insurance money.” The scowl on Colton’s face reminded her of Bryan. “I hope that’s not a factor in your decision.”

  “Of course not.” Yet she wondered, remembering how marvelous Damon’s house was, and how she had felt like a princess there.

  Colton’s eyebrows drew together in annoyance. “I think you should quit watching his kids. He’s using them to get to you, and that’s unfair.”

  “I enjoy taking care of them.”

  “I know you do.” He reached out and captured her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “You have a wonderful, kind heart, but maybe it’s time to find out what’s best for you. I’m here, Mickelle, and I’m willing to give my all for this relationship.”

  She tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened. “What relationship? Colton, we’ve only known each other a few days. This is what, maybe the fourth time I’ve even seen you.” He was blowing everything out of proportion. Of course, she’d felt completely smitten with Damon after seeing him that many times. Or fewer, even. Her knees had gone weak at the very sight of him—they still did.

  “Mickelle I—”

  “Colton, let go, now!”

  Instantly, the anger in his expression vanished. “Sorry. Forgive me. I’ve never felt this way before. It seems I’ve known you forever. I can’t explain it. There’s a bond between us. Maybe it was how you listened to me up in the mountains, or how you let me kiss you. I don’t know. Just don’t write me off so easily. Please.”

  She didn’t answer. He was making her feel distinctly uneasy, but she owed him for all the help with her insurance money. Because of him, her children would have a college education.

  “Give me a few days, okay?” he pleaded, giving her a dimpled smile. “I promise to behave myself.”

  “All right,” she agreed. Maybe by then he would understand how she felt about Damon. Maybe I’ll understand it, too.

  “Now how about some lunch?”

  She grinned and waved the new checkbook. “Only if you’ll let me pay.”

  “No way. I may not be as rich as your other boyfriend, but I do have means.” He laughed and so did she, and the tension between them completely vanished.

  * * *

  Mickelle returned from a short but enjoyable lunch with Colton as Brionney drove up to her house with the twins. Colton helped Mickelle out of his car and stayed for a moment to meet her sister. He made a fuss over the little boys, casting a bleak expression at Mickelle. She couldn’t imagine how his heart must be breaking as he compared Brionney’s twins to those he had lost, and her heart grew more tender toward him.

  Brionney shook her head as Colton drove away. “I’ve never, ever seen such a perfectly gorgeous man up so close. He’s really something. A little shorter than your usual idea of a movie star but tall enough for me.”

  “Wait a minute, I thought you were happily married.” Mickelle picked up Gabriel and followed his brother Forest, who was already heading toward the front porch on his wobbly legs.

  Brionney tossed back her white-blond hair with a laugh. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t trade Jesse for any man, not even one that gorgeous. Still, one can’t help but wonder why he’s not married.”

  “He thinks it’s because of his boys.”

  They’d caught up to Forest and Brionney picked him up in her arms while Mickelle opened the door. “Maybe so. But I still don’t think he holds a candle to Damon. Now there’s a man with pure masculine appeal!”

  “Him!” Mickelle’s anger of earlier returned with force. “Do you know that he’s insane? He’s having a background check done on Colton. Can you believe that? What a waste of money.”

  Brionney smiled thoughtfully. “I think it’s sweet.”

  They put the boys on the kitchen floor with a basket of toys Mickelle kept under the counter for their visits. “It’s not sweet at all, it’s obsessive.”

  “Maybe he has a reaso
n.”

  “He doesn’t even know Colton. Just because I won’t marry him he’s got to try to control my life.”

  Brionney slid onto a stool at the counter. “Control. That’s what you’re really worried about, isn’t it? You’re still afraid Damon’s trying to control you the way Riley did. But he’s not like that.”

  “Then how do you explain this obsession with Colton? It’s not like I’m planning to run off with the man. We’re friends, that’s all. He did me a big favor.”

  “Well, there is something kind of oily about him, you have to admit,” Brionney said, ignoring her frown. “He’s so perfect-looking. What do you bet he’s got some big flaw, like he’s afraid to get dirty or something. I’ll bet he’s never put his head beneath the hood of a car.”

  “And Damon has?”

  “Yes, when he first started out. And even more recently. Who was it that changed your wipers on that old junk heap you still have out front? Wasn’t that right before he found you the deal on your new car? Don’t you remember any of that?”

  Mickelle did, and a warmth suffused her body, vying with the heat of the anger. Damon had fixed the wipers without telling her, and without her having to ask. Before they’d ever gone out on a date.

  With this recollection she had to struggle to remember why she was so angry at him. “If he thinks a passionate kiss and a little Chinese food can make up for the fact that he doesn’t trust my judgment, he’s mistaken!”

  Brionney’s eyes widened eagerly. “He kissed you! Today? But I thought you and he were . . . Well, how was it? Tell me all the juicy details.”

  Mickelle kicked a toy back to Forest who had thrown it at her feet and sank to the stool next to her sister with a long sigh. “It was fabulous. Absolutely and perfectly fabulous.” She heaved another sigh. “I was married for fourteen years and I never had a kiss affect me that way. I don’t even have words for it. How can it be so wonderful when I’m so angry at him?”