Was April right? Had he pushed Laurel away because he was scared of falling in love, because he’d never had that type of role model?
He let the idea drift through his thoughts, down and up and into every part of his body, feeling the weight of it, and one thing became very clear as he let that thought finally settle in his chest, right above his heart. He wasn’t scared of falling in love.
He was scared of failing at love.
And maybe it was time to fix that.
Chapter Sixteen
Laurel leaned her head back on the couch and closed her tear-soaked eyes. If she held her breath, she could hear it: the low echo of his voice—Micah’s voice. God it hurt, thinking his name. Because then that name would materialize into the image of his eyes, his face, the rare smile he slipped her when he wasn’t consumed with the darkness around him. Or the brightness in his eyes when he looked at his daughter.
The three of them could’ve been so good together.
Could’ve been. Those words hurt too.
With the phone pinched between her shoulder and ear, April told her brother good-bye. And though it made Laurel’s chest feel like it was being cracked and ripped and shredded apart, Laurel knew she had to say good-bye to him too. For good.
The couch dipped and April patted her leg. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”
Laurel wiped her eyes and rolled her head to the side. “Can I just have the good?”
“He loves you.” April’s nose scrunched up, sending crinkles out toward the edges of her face. “And I’m not going to start in on how weird that is—my brother falling in love with my best friend. Because it is, mega weird.”
He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. Okay, ouch, that hurt way too much. Laurel covered her face with her hands, fighting off the stinging in the corners of her eyes. “Bad. I need the bad too.”
April laughed. “At least I know the feelings are mutual.” Laurel wasn’t looking at her best friend, but she could tell by the long inhale of breath, what was coming next was going to be painful. “The bad news,” April continued, “is he doesn’t know what to do with the feelings he has for you. They scare him to death, and it might take him a while to figure it out.”
Laurel nodded, giving herself a moment to organize those words and then the thought that Micah wasn’t going to be sorting out anything. He’d told her what he really felt. Things were done, and she needed to move past it.
She shrank into the couch and cringed as she said to April, “I’ll start looking for apartments tomorrow.”
Her best friend smiled gently. “You can stay here as long as you need.”
Eight days. It had taken Micah eight days and almost two hundred miles to track down the one person he knew could help him. The only person he knew who had gotten out from under the mob’s hand. His father.
Inside, it felt like all his organs had thrown up on each other. An acidic burning eating at his bones as he stomped over trash and debris, deeper and deeper into the alley. Leave it to his father to request to meet beside a goddamn Dumpster in Jersey City.
Cool air washed over his neck and arms, the sound of his boot soles crunching echoed into the night. The alley was empty, but that didn’t mean Micah would let his guard down. He shook his head to himself. It happened once, and he’d make damn sure it never happened again.
“Son,” a scraggly voice called out. Micah’s entire body seized. Behind the metal Dumpster, leaning against a door labeled The Drunken Bird, his father smiled.
A bar. Looks like things never change.
“Hate to break it to you,” Micah said, coming to a stop near a large pile of trash bags. He clenched his teeth against the sour stench. “But I stopped being your son the day you left me to take care of my sister alone.”
“Nice to see you too, Micah.” The man chuckled, his yellowed, glossy eyes glinting in the dim glow from the light above the door. It was a weird feeling, staring at the man he used to look up to when he was a kid. Like a splinter in his finger he couldn’t find. It stung, but then it didn’t. Long hair hung over the spread of wrinkles around the man’s eyes and down along the sides of his thin lips. Weird, too, that even after a decade those eyes hadn’t lost their potency. It wasn’t a surprise that his father had been a successful enforcer. Those eyes would be pretty convincing to someone who didn’t know him.
“I see,” the man added, “that even with my absence, you inherited my smart mouth.” His head cocked to the side. “How is she? Your sister?”
“Doing much better than you.” Micah glared at him, at the holes in his jeans and the tattered tips of his shoes. “But if you want to know more than that, you can call her yourself.” He eased a step forward, the itch to cut to the chase prickling at his heels. “You said you could help me.”
His father’s arms dropped to his sides, hands splayed along the bar door. “You know…I wish I didn’t have to.” Micah rolled his eyes. Yeah, well, I wish I didn’t have to be standing in an alley with the man who used to think extracurricular activities for a six- and four-year-old involved playing pool in a bar. His father continued, “I wish I could have raised you better. The both of you. That you could’ve grown up in the suburbs somewhere, lived in a nice house.”
Ouch, that stung. Because it was exactly what he wanted for Shae. And Laurel. And he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to pull it off. Especially with his father trying to take a trip down memory lane instead of telling him how to get out.
“How’d you do it? Leave without repercussions?” Micah prompted.
His father shook his head. “You don’t want to do it the way I did. By leaving everything and everyone. At the time I thought it was the only way, but now I know there are other ways.”
For fifteen minutes, Micah stood and listened to this man explain that the first step Micah needed to take was to remove himself from any criminal activity and commit himself to a new lifestyle that was free of crime. He needed to change the group of people he associated with; making new friends was essential to getting out of organized crime.
Micah hadn’t ever been arrested or charged for involvement in organized crime, so there was no need to hire a defense attorney or cooperate with the police. He was to move out of the city, get a decent job, and slowly cut his ties with any associates he’d had contact with.
He left the alley with a “thanks” to the man, and his mind racing.
Chapter Seventeen
Three months later
Laurel sidestepped a spinning six-year-old just in time that his extended “wings” didn’t knock the mound of base-ten blocks from her grip. Kids filled the hallways, their carefree voices echoing alongside the classroom buildings.
“Miss Harris, I got a pet lizard yesterday!” Lilly, one of her high-spirited students, shouted from the grass. “His name is Lizardy.”
Laurel laughed. “Clever name. Maybe you could bring him to share on Friday?”
Lilly’s eyes twinkled, a wide smile across her face. Would she ever get used to this? The way a few simple words could brighten a child’s day?
Automatically, her mind drifted to Shae, wondering what she would want to bring to class to share, and the heaviness returned. Three months to the day had passed since she had left them. Micah and Shae and their tiny apartment. And not a day had passed that she hadn’t thought about them. Wished she could see them again.
She was happy here, teaching at the elementary school her parents had taught at when she was growing up. Sort of. Mainly, she just wished she could know how they were doing. If Micah was still coming home battered and bruised. How Shae was adjusting to first grade. If they were back to eating their meals at the bar or if Shae was teaching her dad how to make simple meals.
“You look like your dog died,” a familiar voice broke into her thoughts. Marcy. Her mentor teacher and new friend. Together they made up the third-grade team at the tiny school. And she couldn’t have asked for a sweeter advisor. She pointed to the blocks in Laurel’s
arms. “Is that because you’re afraid teaching place value with blocks is going to turn into a cluster-you-know-what of playtime?”
Laurel laughed and shifted her load to free her lanyard of keys. Marcy took the keys from her and opened her classroom door. “Thanks. I was actually excited to teach with something other than paper and pencil.”
“You might be the only teacher on the planet who enjoys the chaos of Common Core.” Marcy’s extra-full lips broke into a smile, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. “So what gives?” She glanced at her watch. “You have exactly thirty seconds until the bell rings to explain.”
Laurel shook her head. No, she wouldn’t dwell on that part of her life. She had fallen hard for Micah. Even Shae. But obviously another plan had been in store for her. Micah hadn’t felt the same way, had sent her packing, and darn it, she wasn’t going to get misty-eyed over this again. Especially right before the kids returned; they noticed everything.
The shrill of the bell snapped her from the thought. “We’ll talk at lunch,” she told her friend just as her students started filing into the room.
“We get to play with blocks!” a few boys erupted as they skipped to their seats. Others hooted their excitement.
“Okay, quiet down, class.” Laurel lowered her voice—a technique she had learned from Marcy. If you’re quiet when you speak, they have to be quiet to hear you. “Yes, we get to play with blocks but not to build towers.” A collection of groans filled the room. Laurel smiled. “These are base-ten blocks, and we will be building numbers with them to help us learn place val—”
Suddenly, her classroom door swung open and a very large, very familiar figure stepped in.
Micah.
That sputter in her chest… Was that her heart stopping? What in the world was he doing here? He paused for a moment, taking in the room—the kids, the blocks, and then her. Their eyes met, and that well-remembered wave of heat that only came with him crept over her. Slowly, he paced toward her, letting the door close behind him.
A black T-shirt stretched across his chest and wrapped his arms, the dark color a delicious complement to his chocolate-brown hair and eyes. She remembered the reaction she’d had the first time seeing him at The Alibi, spilling her Shirley Temple all over April’s shirt. If she’d been holding a drink in the classroom, surely it would’ve been soaking the front of her navy blouse. Every cell in her body tingled with just the sight of him, with how his intense eyes refused to look away from her.
“Laurel,” he said in a steady, low-pitched voice as he approached, his face etched with something hard like determination. What is he up to?
Moving into her personal space and standing only a foot in front of her, he dropped to his knees. And before she could get a word out, he took her hands in his.
“Heartbroken,” he said firmly. “That’s my one word.”
Silence pressed between them, her skin on fire where he was touching her. Words clogged at the base of her throat. She swallowed. “Not in front of the kids.”
He thrust his shoulders back, didn’t smile, and pressed on. “I pushed you away because I was afraid to allow myself to love…because I didn’t think I was capable of loving. Not someone like you, who I knew deserved a better life than what I could give.”
She frowned, the pain of losing him and Shae rushing in—wild and unbreakable like a tidal wave. “Then why are you here now? Interrupting my math lesson?”
“Before you came into my life, I thought I knew who I was. Thought I could give Shae everything I didn’t have on my own—a good school, a decent place to live…but what I didn’t realize we both needed most was someone who could teach me that the right way to live isn’t to live in the past. Or in fear.” His fingers entwined with hers. “I’m not afraid anymore, Laurel. My past is a long story that involves my father and his preference for booze instead of his children—but it’s one I promise to share with you. And it’s one that will never be a part of my future, as long as you’re with me.”
Laurel opened her mouth to say…well, she didn’t even know. She couldn’t believe Micah was here, in her classroom, talking about him and her and futures. He pressed a gentle finger over her lips.
“These last three months have made me realize that I’m not the same person without you. Because you make me want to be better. For Shae…for myself…for the woman I’m in love with.”
Love. Her mind didn’t trip over the word at all.
Not.
One.
Bit.
But… “Micah, I can’t live the life you’re living.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “The fighting… I can’t handle that.”
“Baby, I’ve left that life. All of it. Sold my share of The Alibi to Ryan, bought a house here in the suburbs, enrolled Shae in a great school…” A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I hear they have incredible teachers here. She starts on Monday.”
“We’re getting a new student!” one of her boys shouted and the class stirred, their eyes glued to the gargantuan man kneeled at her feet. Ha! So I’m not the only one who he has that effect on.
“Listen,” Micah continued, running his thumb across her knuckles. “I’ve been an unforgiving asshole.” At his last word, the entire class, including Laurel, gasped.
Micah’s eyes widened. “Shit, that’s a bad word.” He faced the class, pointing at them. “Don’t you ever say that, kids.” Eyes back on Laurel, he stood and took her face in his hands. She couldn’t help it. She melted with just that simple touch, the warmth and soft caress of his palms. “You were right all along—I wasn’t parenting Shae the right way. You made me realize that. You also made me realize that I want a life with you. I want you to be the mother to Shae… To my future babies too.”
“Ewww!” the class burst out in unison. Then a chorus of questions erupted. “Are you getting married? How are babies made?”
Oh my… Laurel laughed nervously. “This is probably not the right place to talk about this.”
“I vaguely recall you saying a declaration of love in front of a whole crowd was romantic.”
The movie theater…the prince and princess… He actually remembers that?
“This,” he continued, gesturing to her students, “is the crowd I’m declaring my love in front of.”
A grin started to pull at the corners of her mouth. If there was something she’d never thought she’d hear, it was that. And then Micah started to tug her toward the door. “But if you’d rather be alone…” He let those words trail off and turned to the class. “Kids, can you excuse us for a second?”
The class let out a cheer, and Laurel gasped. “Micah, I can’t leave them! I could be fired.”
“Good thing I cleared this with the principal beforehand then, right?” The principal…but he hated school and principals and probably teachers too after the taxing childhood he’d had. Her heart warmed. He’d gone through all this trouble just to talk to her? When he could have easily waited until after school?
Just as they reached the door, it swung wide and Kathy, the school’s secretary, popped her head in. She grinned wickedly, like she was up to something. “Someone need a babysitter for a few minutes?”
“Hey!” a few kids bellowed. “We’re third graders, not babies!”
“Ms. Kathy, how are babies made?”
Kathy looked to Laurel and shook her head, still smiling. “I don’t want to know, do I?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” Laurel responded quickly. Her secretary was teasing her; she could tell by the glint of humor in her gray-blue eyes. But still…could she get in trouble for this?
Kathy pointed to the door. “Go. Looks like your boyfriend has something he wants to say to you.”
Boyfriend? Laurel shook her head. “He’s not—”
A strong hand tightened around hers and pulled her out the door. Cool fall air blasted against her flushed face as Micah tugged her down the hallway, her heels click-clacking along the cement. Swiftly, he opened the door
to the janitor’s closet, swept her in, and shut the door.
Blackness engulfed her, but she felt his hands grip her hips. His forehead tipped against hers. “Please say you will be—my girlfriend. And more. I love you, Laurel Harris, and these last few months have been agony for me. But I’ve realized one thing… You make my life better. In every way possible.”
His life… He said he left the bar, but what about… “Are you still working the other job?” Her heart stuttered. She knew she’d never be able to consider what he was proposing if he was.
Against her forehead, she could feel him shake his head. “I cut my ties with them when I moved out here. They didn’t like it, but they also didn’t like the distance. I haven’t been contacted in over two months.”
Relief flooded her veins, and she sagged against him. Could she do this? Accept him back into her life? Her body sang in the presence of his. So alive. So, so…
She needed this man. The last few months had proved that— That even with the job of her dreams, her life still hadn’t felt complete. But now? In his arms surrounded by the Micah scent she loved so much?
“Forgiveness,” she whispered, swallowing in an attempt to keep her emotions in check as the heat of her word filled the small space between them. Slowly, his hands started to slide up her back, tightening into a glorious hold. “That’s my one word.”
He stepped closer, his chest pressing against hers, and she tipped her head back, knowing exactly where his mouth would be. Only milliseconds passed until he first kissed her cheek then his gentle lips found hers.
His tongue swept in, tentatively at first, lingering against hers in long, sweeping strokes. Delicious. The rhythm picked up, along with the beat of her heart, and needing to be closer to him—to rid the space between them—she snaked her arms around his neck and tugged her body into his.
Kissing him, feeling his hands on her, only intensified the ache in her chest. There was no question about it— This was where she belonged. In his arms. In his life.
A Moment of Weakness Page 18
