by Bella Andre
Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "You'd make him regret it."
He nodded, perfectly serious. "I would. And Harry and Drake would be right there with me."
With brothers like these, she was surprised Suzanne had ever managed to date at all. Speaking of brothers--"My mom practically fainted yesterday when she realized one of her favorite painters was sitting in my living room."
"She's right to be impressed with Drake." Alec looked just as proud of his youngest brother as he was of Suzanne and Harry. "He was always drawing or painting. Right from the start, his talent was obvious. Staggering, really, even as a little kid."
"I'd love to see his work."
"You already have. It's the first painting you see when you walk into the S&W Aviation lobby."
Her eyes went big. "That incredible mountain vista?"
"Drake will be pleased to know your mom isn't the only fan of his work."
She was floored. Not only by Drake's gifts, but by all of the Sullivans she had met. Four extraordinary people who were all so nice, so giving, even to a virtual stranger like her. "You have quite a family, don't you?"
"People always think so, especially when you start counting my cousin Smith and his Academy Awards and my cousin Ryan and his World Series wins." He shrugged. "But to me, they're just the people I grew up with, people I know will always have my back, just like I'll always have theirs." He pointed at her sand drawing. "Did you mean to draw a flower?"
She hadn't really been paying attention to what she was doing, she'd been so absorbed by what he was telling her. "I guess you're right--I'm never really far from my garden, am I?" She handed him the stick. "It's your turn."
The waves had started to wash away her sand sketch by the time the outline of the plane he was drawing became clear. The best part of it, though, was the stick-figure woman flying the plane with her hair blowing back and a huge grin on her face.
"Not bad," she said, glad to see him relaxed again.
"You think you can do better?"
Laughing, and more than up for the challenge, she took the stick and focused on her second drawing. "How's that?"
He shot her a look when she was done with her fish--scales, gills, fins and all. "You were playing me with your simple flower drawing. You've done this before." The wave lapped at her fish, taking away its tail. "Your fish looks real enough to swim away."
"I've taken a few classes," she admitted. She gave him the branch. "Though I have to say, your stick figure was brilliant. Do another."
As he took the branch from her, she thought she saw something spark in his eyes. Something that looked like joy. And maybe even pleasure from her compliment.
Soon, she found herself looking at a stick-figure Sullivan family temporarily imprinted in the sand. Suzanne was sitting behind a computer, Harry was astride a horse holding a lance, and Drake was painting.
"Those are fantastic."
She was sad that the waves were already washing his pictures away, although maybe that was part of what made them so special. You knew they weren't going to last forever, so you had to appreciate them in the moment. Just the way she and Alec were appreciating each other. With no worries about the future. Only the sweet time they were able to spend together now.
"Draw yourself too," she suggested. What would he sketch into the sand? The billionaire businessman that the world saw? Or the man she'd been so privileged to get to know behind the dark suit and the cynical expression?
But she was surprised when he said, "You do it. Draw us both."
His eyes were dark now, as intense as that moment when he came into her and watched pleasure explode through every cell in her body from his touch. And yet, somehow this moment felt bigger than that. More important even than when they were making love, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, heart to heart.
Alec wanted to know what she saw when she looked at him. And she wanted to show him. Show him all the ways he was special.
Special not just to her, but to everyone who loved him.
She took a few steps back from the water, wanting a few extra minutes to work on her drawing before the surf washed it away. She bit her lip, concentrating on the press, the slide, of her stick into the sand. Alec stood silently beside her, and she knew his eyes weren't on the sand, but on her. No one had ever looked at her the way he did, with such focus. As though he was endlessly fascinated by her.
She smiled at the thought--what woman wouldn't want Alec Sullivan to be fascinated by her? It was a nice daydream, but she knew better than to dwell on it. She wouldn't have him forever, but that didn't mean she wouldn't appreciate every moment of now.
Pieces of both of them came together bit by bit on the sand. She didn't draw one of them first and the other person next--that just didn't make sense. Because when she saw Alec in her mind's eye, she saw herself there too.
"There." She propped the branch in the sand at her side. "The two of us are now immortalized." She grinned at him. "For the next sixty seconds, that is."
But he wasn't grinning as he stared down at her drawing. She'd drawn them both in her garden. He had just picked a carrot from her vegetable bed, only to have it promptly stolen by a bunny. Alec's expression as the bunny took the carrot was her favorite part of the drawing. Because he was clearly happy that the rabbit had gotten such a prize. So happy, in fact, that when you looked at the picture you had to wonder if he'd pulled the carrot for the bunny, rather than for dinner. She'd drawn herself standing nearby, holding a fistful of just-picked flowers, laughing at the scene playing out before her.
"No one else would have drawn me like that." His voice was low, his tone serious. "You're not seeing the real me."
She looked down at her sand-sketch, the surf already beginning to blur its edges. "Of course I am." She turned back to him, needing to touch him as her hands went to either side of his face. "I've never seen anything but the real you, Alec."
His mouth was on hers before she could take her next breath, his kiss so passionate, so full of need, that she knew if there had been a bed nearby, they would already be in it, clothes off, limbs tangled, bodies connected. On and on he kissed her, like he'd never get enough of her. And she felt exactly the same way. As though he was everything--the beginning, the middle, and the end all at once.
Finally, he lifted his lips from hers, but he still held her tightly, her cheek to his chest, their breathing ragged, their hearts racing against each other. The sun was starting to fall in the sky now, beginning its slow descent toward the blue water below.
"We should get back to the plane. In case the weather changes."
His words rumbled through from his chest to hers. She didn't want to leave, didn't ever want this day together to end, even though she'd known all along that it would.
*
Alec couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so good.
He'd given Cordelia the joy of flying, pleasure in the limo, and the sand and sun--but she'd given him back even more. With only a broken branch, the sandy beach, and her brilliant eye for everything around her, she'd shown him she understood him in a way that no one else did.
Because he didn't allow anyone close enough to see it. To see him.
But Cordelia hadn't needed him to let her in. She'd found the lock to his heart and opened it without even trying. With every word, every question, every smile, every laugh--even her tears--she'd drawn him deeper, uncovered more.
With more time, what else would she unearth?
And would he be able to live with what she found?
For more than thirty years, Alec had been careful. Deliberate. At first, he'd focused on just getting through. Later, he'd concentrated on making his mark. He'd allowed himself to feel pleasure, both in bed and out, but moments of true joy had been few and far between. His sister's and brothers' successes, the birth of each of his cousin's kids, seeing his siblings and cousins find happiness--those were all things to celebrate.
But for himself, Alec knew better than to ask for too much.
Knew how pointless it was, how frustrating, to ask for things you could never have. As a child, he'd made dozens, hundreds, thousands of silent wishes, endlessly hoping that his mother would feel better. He'd vowed to be a better son, to be perfect, to do whatever it took, if only she would stop crying. He'd been so angry with his father for not knowing how to make her smile. For not knowing how to make her happy. If his father truly loved his wife, shouldn't he have been able to make everything okay?
When Alec's wishes, his hopes, hadn't come true, they'd all been replaced with anger. At his father for failing. At his mother for taking her life. And at himself, most of all, for not being able to do more than stand by helplessly while his entire family crashed and burned.
This past week with Cordelia was more than Alec had ever thought to have. He wouldn't ask for more. Couldn't risk asking for more. Not when she'd already given him so much already, so freely.
If they spent too much more time together, he'd hurt her. Hurt the best friend he'd ever had. Hurt her the way he'd been hurt all those years ago--by making her hope, making her wish for things that could never be. By making her think she could change him, change his mind, change his future.
The flight back was smooth. Cordelia had been full of wonder on the way out, vocal with it too. But they were both silent, not only during the flight and landing, but also when he helped her out of the plane and walked her to her car.
"Thank you for the beautiful flight," she said.
He couldn't resist pulling her into his arms, even as he prepared to say good-bye. "I just wanted to make you happy." He hadn't planned on saying anything that honest, but with Cordelia he never seemed to have any choice in the matter. From the start, he'd known she deserved his honesty. Even if it hurt.
"You made me very happy today, Alec." She reached up to brush his hair away from his forehead. "I hope I made you happy too."
He had to kiss her then. Not only to forestall any more words--he knew he didn't have any of the right ones--but also because kissing Cordelia was the fastest way he knew to get to happy. He wanted nothing more than to take her home and make love to her. To listen to the sounds of her pleasure all night long, until she fell asleep, sated, in his arms.
Instead, he made himself give up her mouth and force his hands from her waist. Made himself step back. "I'm sure you've got to check on things at your store."
She didn't reply right away to his obvious brush-off, holding his gaze for a few moments longer than was comfortable. "I do. And I'm sure you've got a lot to deal with at the office too."
He drank in her big, honest eyes. The beautiful flush on her cheeks. Her just-kissed mouth. "Roman texted to let us know he'll have security outside your cottage day and night, all week."
"I don't need bodyguards, Alec."
"With news from the press conference just hitting, I need to know you're safe." Last night he'd made sure of it by staying with her in her cottage. In her bed. But he couldn't do that another night. Not if he wanted to make sure they were clear about only being friends. Clear, most of all, with himself.
He was glad when she didn't argue with his reasoning, even more glad when she put her arms around him and held him tight. But when she let him go, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then got into her car and drove away, he was anything but glad.
And full of more helpless wishes, more foolish hopes, than he'd had in thirty years...
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Langley Garden Center had never been so busy. Partly because of Cordelia's sudden notoriety, but also because the weather was perfect. Overnight it seemed every bush, every plant, every tree had burst into bloom.
All of Alec's siblings had been in during the past week to check on her, which was very sweet. Only Alec hadn't been by. He'd texted her a couple of times to make sure she wasn't having trouble with the press or with the security crew assigned to watch over her. But his notes were brief and to the point.
It stung, of course. How could it not? She wasn't expecting a great big love affair, but that didn't mean going from making love one day to barely speaking the next was her favorite thing in the world. At the same time, she understood the way Alec's mind and his heart worked. She couldn't love him and not understand that he wasn't happy with the way he'd opened up to her. With how much he'd shared with her on the beach. There was nothing he hated more than talking about his mother or father and revisiting the past.
She was a good enough friend to give him some space--for now, at least--because he was not only still reeling from losing Gordon, but was also doing the work of two men. But despite his obvious discomfort over opening up to her on the beach, she couldn't help but feel that it was exactly what he needed to do.
Fortunately, in just a few minutes they would come face to face again at Harry's house in Manhattan for a birthday-planning meeting. Though seeing Alec tonight was nowhere close to a date, she'd still taken a few extra minutes after work to clean up, going so far as to put on the white skinny jeans she rarely wore. Dirt was an occupational hazard, so white was rarely a good idea. She'd also found a pretty sea-green top her mother had given her and had even splashed out with some mascara and lip gloss.
Anticipation made her heart beat a little faster as she pulled into the spot Harry had blocked off for her in his small parking area in front of his house. Two weeks ago she hadn't even known Alec Sullivan. Now, a week without seeing him was too long.
She was just getting out of the car when Harry stepped out on his front stoop to greet her. "Cordelia, I'm glad you're here. I hope the drive wasn't too bad."
She smiled at Alec's brother. Harry Sullivan might not make her heart go pitter-patter, but he was still one of the most attractive men she'd ever seen. How, she wondered, had no one snapped him up yet? The brilliant, gorgeous professor, who also happened to know his way around a medieval jousting pole, was going to be quite a catch for someone one day.
Did Harry have the same hang-ups about love as his older brother? Had his parents' marriage--and its end--taken as big a toll on him? Or had Alec taken care of everything so that Harry could escape into his books?
"It was nice to get out of my greenhouses for a little while, actually." She grabbed the potted plants she'd brought for each of Alec's siblings before kicking her door shut and heading up the stairs. "I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone." She handed him a green pot. "This is for you."
"You didn't have to bring me anything." But he looked pleased that she had.
Suzanne and Roman called their names from around the corner. "It's so good to see you again," Suzanne said as she enveloped Cordelia in a warm hug. "Is one of these for me?"
Cordelia laughed, appreciating how direct Suzanne was. "I remembered you were admiring the chenille plant during the garden tour last week," she said as she handed her the blooming plant in the hand-thrown pot.
"You're the best," Suzanne said. "No wonder Alec is crazy for you."
Cordelia nearly dropped the third pot she was holding for Drake and Rosa. Had Alec said something about his feelings for her to Suzanne? And did his siblings know they'd slept together? She couldn't see Alec as someone who would kiss and tell, though, not even with his family.
"I like your brother a lot too."
Grinning, Suzanne craned her neck to see into the house. "Is he here yet?"
"Not yet," Harry said as they headed in. "Drake and Rosa are on their way from a meeting at her foundation that ran a little long." To Cordelia, he said, "Rosa has recently put together a foundation to fight online bullying."
Cordelia didn't pay much attention to celebrities, but Rosa's story had been so big even she couldn't miss it. "I think that's great."
"We all do," Suzanne agreed. "Oh good, Harry, you've got a bottle of red open already. Just warning you guys, but after the crap day of coding I just had, I may polish off one of these all by myself."
It could have been so easy to be intimidated by Alec's family, to feel as though growing and selling plants couldn't measure
up to their huge successes. But they were all so easygoing. Even Alec, when he forgot to brood, she thought with a small smile.
Harry's house wouldn't have looked out of place in England, with comfortable leather chairs and thick rugs and leather-bound books covering every surface. The space fit him really well--it was cozy yet masculine--although Cordelia couldn't help but be struck by the fact that it seemed a bit lonely. It was the perfect bachelor pad. Only, did Harry still want to be a bachelor?
A knock came at the door and Cordelia's heartbeat immediately kicked up in anticipation of seeing Alec's handsome face. When Drake and Rosa appeared instead, she hoped no one could see her deflate.
There were hugs all around, she gave them their potted plant, and soon everyone had a drink in their hand and were relaxing into their seats. Everyone except Cordelia. Alec could just be late. But something told her his absence had nothing to do with losing track of time.
Harry's phone dinged, and he pulled it out of his pocket. She already knew what it said, even before he told them, "Alec just canceled."
"We'll see about that," Suzanne said, her mouth tightening into a flat line as she quickly typed a message into her phone. Within seconds, she got a reply. One that made her curse. "He doesn't have time for this right now?" She made quotes in the air. "Does he actually think I'm going to let him get away with this? That any of us are?" She shoved her phone into her bag and started to get up. "Swear to God, I'm going to drag him here."
"Suz." Harry put his hand on her arm. "You know he didn't want to be a part of putting on this party."
She made another sound of frustration before dropping back to the couch. "Dad is trying so hard. Why can't Alec see it?"
"He does." Drake reached out to put his hand over Suzanne's. "You know his experiences, his childhood, were different from ours, that he was old enough to see it all go down and remember everything that happened. That's why you've got to cut him some slack with this, Suz. We all do."
"I'm not saying he wasn't a hero for keeping us together after Mom died." Suzanne's expression was so sad that if Roman hadn't already put his arm around her, Cordelia would have. "I just don't think it's good for him to keep pushing Dad away forever. Not just Dad, but all of us."
