by Coralie Moss
“That I was coming to talk. Can I come inside?” Liam waited on the top step, stomping his feet, until she unlocked the door and opened it wide, beckoning him over the threshold. The shoulders of his red, all-weather jacket were dusted with wet patches from melting snow. “When I saw you on the conference call, I had this feeling all my questions would be answered if I could just talk to you again, face to face.”
“What questions?” Anna reached behind her for the edge of the kitchen counter.
“It’s only one question.” He unzipped his jacket, dropped his mittens, and tucked his hands under his armpits. “But before we talk, would you mind if I got a fire going?”
“I’d like that.” Some of the tension dropped from her body. “You know where to find the wood. Don’t take any from the left side of the pile. It’s fresh.”
Anna went into the bedroom and returned, her arms loaded with the quilt from the bed and her heart loaded with questions. She draped the quilt over the back of the couch and lined up what she wanted to know in order of urgency.
“What are you doing here?” she began.
“I needed to talk to you in person,” he answered, chuffing his way to the woodstove.
She placed a stack of newspaper on top of the armful of logs Liam carried and returned to the safety of her kitchen. He had a roaring fire going within minutes. While he was tending to the flames, he sat on the floor and loosened the laces on his boots.
“Do you want some tea, or cocoa?” It wasn’t the second question on her list, but wet snow on a cold night called for a hot drink.
“I’ll have whatever you’re making.”
Anna placed a small, heavy-bottomed pan atop the burner. She opened the refrigerator door, grimacing when she sniffed the carton of milk, and poured the soured liquid down the sink. Herbal tea would have to do, though the image of the last time she and Liam shared food and drink haunted her for a moment. This night didn’t need to follow the same script as that November night in New York.
The backs of her legs bumped against the couch when she bent to place the mugs of tea on the table. She hovered between sitting and standing until Liam patted one of the couch cushions
“Sit,” he said. She stumbled to the side and sat on his hand. He pulled away and busied himself with adding a dollop of honey to his tea. “Daniel and I had a heart to heart a few weeks ago. He seems happy. He also said the two of you have been talking.”
“We did talk. We still talk.” She nudged her mug away from the edge of the table and drew the quilt across her lap. “It took us—me, mostly—a while to come to terms with the odds of this situation happening.”
“How do you feel about him now?”
Her gaze shifted across the empty walls and her almost empty shelves before she could settle it on Liam. “I’m grateful Daniel wrote to me, and I’m—glad’s not the right word, but I’ll use it anyway—I’m glad we had the time in Mexico to discover we aren’t right for each romantically, not now. And it’s nice to know we can be friends. He’s making plans for me to visit him in New York in May. I’m excited.”
Liam nodded. “That echoes what he said to me.”
“I’m also grateful it’s not a source of ongoing tension. I would feel bad if I’d driven a permanent wedge between you.”
“Only a tiny, temporary one. And it was good for us both when we finally had it out.” He sipped at his tea, reached for hers, and handed it to her.
She let it rest against the bundled covers keeping her warm and protected. “What about Cassidy?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Wasn’t that her at the conference call?”
“Yes, that was Cass.”
Anna swallowed before asking her next question. If she held her mug any more tightly, it would burn her palms. “Are you two back together?”
“We were,” he said. “Very briefly. And now we’re not.”
“But she’s your lawyer?”
“Her brother is the lawyer for the clients of mine who bought the boat. She was just sitting in.”
She raised one eyebrow. This line of questions and answers was beginning to head in a better direction. “I guess it read differently from my vantage point. Is there anything you want to tell me about why you got back together and why you’re not with her now?”
“She made a convincing argument for giving us a second chance. She even agreed to hold off being sexual until after we’d gotten everything out in the open. Within a few days of just talking, we circled back to the things we didn’t resolve the first time around.” While he was talking, Liam leaned forward, bringing his entire body closer to hers. “One of the things Cass was very clear about was her desire for children. And her clarity forced me to see I don’t want that and I’m certain I won’t ever.”
“That’s a big thing to know about yourself,” Anna noted, giving in to her need to touch the man sharing her perch. She threaded her fingers through his hair, releasing his familiar scent.
“Yes, it is, but when you find the person you want to be with and having children isn’t a possibility—or desire—for them, it helps make everything that much clearer.”
“What are you talking about?”
Liam unfurled his body and turned to kneel in front of Anna. He set their mugs side by side on the table and pressed his hands onto the sides of her thighs. “I didn’t fly here to talk about Cassidy or Daniel or furniture or boats, Anna. I flew here to talk about us.”
Boom. Her heart kicked into serious overdrive, like when her industrial sewing machine was in use during a power surge. She had to lift her foot off the pedal and take a breath.
“Us?” she whispered, as she gripped Liam’s wrists.
“Yes, Anna, us. Because a part of me knew there was going to be an us that night in Vancouver when we were sitting back to back, just breathing.” He stood on his knees and undid the button on the pocket of his flannel shirt, the same flannel shirt he’d worn to a couple of their big events at each other’s houses.
No. What was Liam doing? In her experience, a man on his knees was heading for one of two possible things, and so far, his hands were nowhere near her pants.
He found what he was looking for, and when Anna made herself look down, a ring circled the tip of his first finger.
“Anna, I want there to be an us. A you and me, together. Would you do me the honor of considering a partnership that has nothing to do with furniture or fabric and everything to do with what we create when we’re together?”
Anna stared at the carved ring, at Liam’s face, and back to his finger.
“Will you marry me?”
The dam around Anna’s heart broke with those words.
“Now? You want me to marry you now?” Her newfound resolve to be creative, to take risks in her work and personal life, was too fragile to be set aside. She braided her fingers in her lap, words caught in her throat. No, lower. No, throughout her entire body.
“Well, right now might be problematic. But soon would be fine, whatever you want.”
Anna relaxed her hands and extended a shaking palm. Liam centered the wood ring where her fate and marriage lines intersected, cupping her hand in both of his.
“But I thought we were done.” She shook her head. A dropped tear wet the edge of the ring. The tiny globe of water sparkled in the firelight, matching similar drops clinging to her eyelashes.
“I thought we were too, until I went through my sketchbooks and read what I wrote when I went camping and it all came back to me. You came back to me.”
“We’re so different, Liam. I live here, and you live…” Oh God, how could she explain her fears without losing the ground she’d acquired. Without losing him.
“I’m ready to make changes. I want to keep my house and workshop in New York, but I also want to be here, with you. I think we can do this.” He took the ring from her palm, turned her hand, and supported the important finger. “Anna. Would you do me the honor of considering marriage?”
; The wide band centered in her gaze was inlaid with two silver hearts. He was asking her to marry him, and an important detail was missing.
“Do you love me, Liam?” she whispered.
His face colored. He started at her question and swallowed hard. “I skipped that part, didn’t I?”
Anna nodded, one side of her mouth curling into a smile. He was as nervous as she was. “You might have.”
“I’ve never asked a woman to marry me.” He slid a hand behind Anna’s neck and drew her forehead to his. His breath warmed her lips while the ring slid down her finger, snug, not tight. He exhaled and opened his eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, Liam.”
It was her turn to cup his face and sink into the fire-flecked depths of the brown eyes she’d grown to love. There. She’d said it, and she’d felt it. She’d been feeling it and had probably dropped those feelings into one of the ever-present boxes littering her house.
“We can shop for a real ring, together.”
Anna shook her head. “This ring feels very real.”
When she looked at him, her eyes were clear.
“But here’s the thing.” She pulled at the quilt, once comforting, now constricting, and invited him to sit next to her. “And please, hear me out.”
Liam nodded, two bright, red-flushed spots coloring his cheeks.
“I can’t say yes to marrying you, not yet,” she said. “I had a wonderful marriage the first time around, and I would never compare what I had with Gary to what I might have with you—or another man—but after five years of being a widow, I need…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t know how to finish her sentence. She had walked to the edge of her known universe.
“What do you need?”
She shook her head. “That’s the thing, Liam. I don’t know. I have some ideas, but it’s like I’m looking at a…a recipe book and someone tore out sections of the instructions and I could wing it and hope for the best or I could choose to make a different dish or…”.
Anna swiped at her face with the heels of her palms and let out a long, unsteady breath.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I don’t want to keep doing what I was doing the way I was doing it, but I’m not completely sure what the next step looks like if the next steps include a relationship.”
She twisted the wooden ring circling her finger, pulled it off, and toyed with it, her thoughts elsewhere. The long silence was broken when Liam cleared his throat to speak.
“I was at the cottage with the MacMasters the other night. I contacted them about renting it again, and they were coming to the island to check on it anyway, so they met me there. They asked a lot of questions about what I thought they could do to update the place. I’m not sure if they’re thinking of putting it on the market or if they just want to get more rent during the summer season, but I told them I’d be happy to make some suggestions.”
“Does this mean we’re going to be neighbors again?”
“Yes. Unless you want me to move in here. Or go back to New York. It’s your call.” Turning to face her, he reached for her fidgeting hands and quieted them between his own. “What do you want, Anna? What do you…fantasize about?”
Loyal clients and steady work. Healthy, happy kids. World peace.
“You’re hoping I’ll say I fantasize about you, aren’t you?” She could do better. She could reach deeper.
A clean house. A fresh start. A chance to share her heart.
Liam smirked. “Yes, that’s a given. But I want to know what you’re thinking about for your work life, your creative life, travel, all that.”
She leaned back, crossed her arms over her chest. “Seeing Daniel in Mexico reminded me that, once upon a time, I wanted to be an artist.”
“The work you do now requires creativity,” he pointed out.
“Somewhat, but not really.”
“You’re right. I was thinking I have more creativity in my work, but still, people come to me with specific things in mind. When I came here on sabbatical, one of my desires was to find my creativity again.”
“And did you?” she asked. They were spiraling away from the primary question, but she wanted to hear more about what he wanted too.
“Yes, I found something. And since being back in New York, all my ideas are stuck between the covers of my sketchbook.” He glanced at the woodstove, leaned past her knees, and added another log. “What if we could help each other find the thing we’re missing,” he asked, sitting beside her, “the thing we miss, the thing that’s driven us, that once drove us? What if I moved in next door and worked on my ideas and courted you at the same time?”
“What would happen to your business?”
“I’d have to go back regularly, I imagine, but when I’m here, there are no interruptions.”
“I beg to differ.” Courting required interruptions, for shared meals, walks, and explorations in the pursuit of sexual ecstasy. She would tape a list of her courtship requirements on their respective refrigerators if that would help.
“Let me amend that. There would be fewer client interruptions.”
“We’d have to make clear lines around when we can be interrupted and when we can’t.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed.
“And my first grandchild is due soon, so I already know I’ll be taking trips to Toronto.”
Liam nodded again. “I can water your plants and feed your animals.”
“I don’t have houseplants or pets.”
“I know,” he said, beginning to grin. “I can also lift boxes, chop wood, and keep you supplied with fresh pasta.”
“You’re trying to tell me you’ll take care of things, right?” Anna’s body warmed, and the rise in her internal temperature had nothing to do with the fresh log he’d just added to the fire.
“Right.”
“And you’ll let me take care of things too?”
“Absolutely.”
“And you won’t pressure me to marry you?”
“I won’t pressure you, but I retain the right to ask you again.”
Anna stared at Liam and spilled the quilt into his lap. She got off the couch and walked to her bedroom, returning with a jewelry box. She lifted the lid and removed the top tray, setting them side by side on the low table, next to their two mugs.
The jewelry arrayed was jumbled and disorganized. Gold and silver bits and pieces, modern and vintage, nestled with necklaces made by grade-schooler’s hands. Tiny folded notes, dried bits of flowers, loose rocks, beads, and bits of sea glass competed for space.
She picked up her first engagement ring and placed it on the table. She moved objects with one fingertip and chose a small carving from the set she’d given to Daniel all those years ago, a folded Happy Mother’s Day card, and a section of painted clay that might have been a flower. Or a bug.
“I’ve been a girlfriend, a wife, and a mother, but in my adult life, I’ve never claimed a place or a time as mine,” she stated, picking up the figure she’d carved from soapstone. “When Daniel showed me he still had the pieces I gave him, I was really startled. He said he kept them to remind them of a time in his life when he made certain choices. He also said he was looking for me to see if he could have all those options available to him again.” She looked up. “My son and his wife are about to become parents, and it would be so easy for me to offer to move closer and help them. If you move next door, Liam, and if we’re going to have this…this relationship that may or may not include getting married, then I need you to…”.
She fumbled for words.
“You need me to support you when you ask for time and space to pursue whatever it is you want to pursue,” he finished for her.
“Exactly,” she said, setting the carving back with the other objects.
“Would that include pursuing a relationship with me?”
“Oh my, yes,” she answered, nodding vigorously. “Gaia has a new book coming out, and I need a study partner. My first inclinatio
n is to say, move in with me; we’ll figure things out. But if you’re okay with being neighbors and dating, then you have a deal.”
Liam picked up a tarnished silver chain from the lower tier of the jewelry box and slid a polishing cloth out of its plastic sleeve. He worked the cloth up and down the chain, cleaning and polishing the metal until it shone in the firelight.
“Give me your hand.” He removed the ring he’d carved for her, strung it on the chain, and looped the silver links around her neck. “Anna, take all the time you need. Set whatever boundaries you need to set, and I’ll honor you by doing the same. I’ll share a bed with you when you want and sleep alone when you don’t.”
Anna looked at the chain and the ring hanging between her breasts. She fingered the circle, pressing it into her chest, and leaned forward to kiss her almost-fiancée. “We might have to negotiate daily.”
“I can do that.”
“Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“My toothbrush is in my jacket. So is a bottle of your favorite lube.”
“Why don’t you lock up and meet me in my bedroom.”
He caught her mouth with his, slipping one hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head and holding it in place.
“I love you, Anna Granger.”
“I love you, Liam Gailbraith. And hurry up. I’m way behind on my orgasm quota for this month.”
Epilogue
“Anna.”
Witnessing a man turn forty-three wasn’t so bad. Especially when his chestnut-colored hair was still thick and lustrous and the shape of his ass continued to defy logic by getting better with age.
“Anna.”
And being the aforementioned hunk’s slightly older girlfriend didn’t seem to be working out so bad, either. For one thing, she took her job seriously by keeping that gorgeous ass out of trouble while enjoying the many benefits of co-ownership.
“Anna.”
Anna came out of her reverie. Liam stood in front of her, one arm extended, a slender flute of champagne held between three fingers. The bubbles slinking up the inside surface of the glass glinted a rainbow of colors in the August afternoon.
