by Whitley Gray
“Today, in fact.”
“Was he there all day? Did he keep you from doing your job?”
“No.”
“Did everything else go right? Did someone tell you a joke? Did you get some lunch? Did you hear a song you love on the radio?”
“Yes.” Stupid me. I’d stood with my back to the refrigerator, unconsciously backing myself into a corner again. I had nowhere to get away from his logic. “So?”
He stepped around the counter. I gripped the handle on the fridge door. He made it to the edge of the linoleum floor and stopped. “We both have careers. They require different things, but in the end, they’re our jobs. They’re what we’re good at. We do different things, but couples can have different careers. We can still make it work. You don’t think doctors only marry doctors and teachers only marry teachers, do you?” I must’ve made a face, because he held up his hands. “Easy. I’m only making a comparison. What’s got you so spooked, anyway? I’m not asking you to donate an organ. Just let me into your heart.”
I shook my head as I walked around him, out of the kitchen, through the living room, and into the master bedroom. My walk-in closet didn’t seem so big anymore, compared with his. Also maybe not my wisest move if I wanted some space between us, but it was where I had to go.
“You can’t keep running away from me,” I heard him say as he followed me.
“I’m not running away,” I said, mentally adding this time as I sat on the floor. I pulled out the last moving box I had left. It was tucked behind the closet door under a shelf with all the things I didn’t feel like dealing with every day. It wasn’t lost on me that we both kept our secrets buried in the same place. “I’m in here.”
Dress whites and all, he stood in the closet doorway and saw me there on the floor. “Looking for something?”
To my surprise, as if wrinkles in that crisp white uniform didn’t matter in his world, he took a seat on the floor close to me, not touching. It was like he knew I needed some distance, and I was grateful.
I pulled out a photo frame and, without looking at it, handed it to him. “Meet Jeremy.”
“Oh.” He took the picture from me, studying the photo. “Who is he?”
“He was my fiancé.”
His expression sobered. “Was?”
“He died.”
A long, quiet moment passed between us in which I felt nothing and thought nothing. A nice change from the way I felt for years after he was gone.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “When was this?”
“Six years ago. I was stupid, young, and impatient. I lived at home, we’d been dating for four years, and I thought we should get married. Mostly I wanted to get out of the house, and at the time, going by my mother’s example, getting married was the only way to do that. He was a stockbroker, and he was really good at charming people. He knew how to make them do what he wanted. Me included.
“I worked in my dad’s garage after I got out of school. My mother thought I should work in an office instead. Nice, safe, and steady, not to mention clean. Jeremy said if we got married, he’d find me an office job, and I could quit working on cars when Dad retired.”
“She couldn’t see you loved cars?” I blinked. He smiled. “C’mon, Grace. Anyone who sees you with your face shoved under a hood knows you’re in your element there. That’s where you belong. I knew it the first time I saw you.”
One of the tumblers in my heart clicked into place. It scared the shit out of me. “They wanted me to be more traditional. More ladylike, I guess. That wasn’t for me. Jeremy and I had a fight over it, and he called off the wedding. When I told my mother, she was pissed. She said he was my only hope for a future, and I’d ruined it because I was too busy dreaming to consider what he wanted.”
“Isn’t that kind of archaic?”
“That’s my mom. She had her own issues going on. I used to think the only way she could be truly happy was if she went back in time and lived in the days of poodle skirts and sock hops.” I shook my head, my throat tightening. “How bad a daughter am I if I wished my mother could get lost in time?”
“It sounds to me like you were trying to make everyone happy but yourself. That’s not an easy position to be in. I know.” He kissed my palm. “Go on. Tell me what happened.” Gaze fixed on me, he put the picture on the floor behind him, away from me where I didn’t have to see it.
“She told me I should stop dreaming of things I couldn’t have and take what I could get because that was the best I could expect. She said my life was going to be like hers, because that’s how life worked. I told her I couldn’t live her life for her, correcting the mistakes she made along the way. She called me an ungrateful bitch.”
He squeezed my hand again. I fought myself not to lean on him. He was there, and I knew he cared, but…no. I couldn’t let myself lean on him. Even if I really wanted to. “You drove four hours in the snow so she could sleep better. That doesn’t sound ungrateful to me.”
“That’s now. It’s kind of our compromise. As long as I do everything else she needs me to do, she doesn’t bitch about me being a mechanic. She also doesn’t remind me about Jeremy. I think that’s because I’ve been single for so long, she convinced herself she was right. I let it go to keep the peace.”
He leaned back on the closet frame, and he took me with him, pulling me against his side. I didn’t resist. Actually, I was grateful he didn’t make me resist anymore. “What happened to Jeremy?”
“I figured out afterward, he and my mom had a lot in common. They both had psychological issues going on that they refused to deal with. I did some reading. At the time I thought it was only wicked mood swings. Eventually, I learned he was a narcissist with manic depressive tendencies.”
“He never got treatment?”
“No.” I nestled my head on his shoulder. We fit so well together that my muscles slowly relaxed. It couldn’t really be a dream, could it? “Not that he would have. As far as he was concerned, he was perfect. But he never had the chance. A few days after we broke up, he drove off the highway and his car hit a tree. The report said it was an accident, and he fell asleep at the wheel. His family had connections, so I’m pretty sure there was more to it. I’ll never know. I had to let it go. There was no closure to be had there.”
He kissed my head. I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for six years. “Of course there is. You can forgive yourself.”
That made me sit up to face him. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You say that, but do you believe it? Do you really feel like you don’t need forgiveness? Even your own? Think about it. It’s not an easy point to get to. ‘I love you’ is easy by comparison. Anybody can say that, but ‘I forgive you’ are actually the three hardest words to say.” He kissed my forehead. “Especially when the person who needs to hear them is you.”
I closed my eyes, feeling suddenly tired in his arms. “How do you know all this?”
Hs hand snaked around my waist, tugging me closer. “I’m not a psychiatrist, but I played one in a movie once.”
“Ha.” I nestled my head back into his shoulder and curled my leg over his the way we did when we lay in bed together, talking about anything and everything between lovemaking sessions. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Anything you need, milady. I see the phone over there on your nightstand. Should I grab it for you?”
“Why?”
“So you can call your mother, and tell her you forgive her.”
I sat up. “Not a chance!”
“It sounds like you need to, but if you’re not ready, it can wait.”
“Until dogs sing Springsteen.”
He reached into his pocket, digging out his phone. “I think I saw that on a video once.”
I laughed again. Damn the man. He could make me comfortable even in the worst times. His fingers wove through my hair, and his heart beating under my cheek set the pace for mine. If someone were to ask me in twenty years what the perfect moments
in my life had been, I’d have counted this as one.
I don’t know how long we sat there together that way. He made me feel so at ease that my eyes drifted shut, and I listened to him breathe. I could only hope he felt the same peace from me. For however long this lasted—
“How long is that pizza supposed to cook?”
I sniffed the air. “Oh shit.” Untangling myself from Aaron’s side, I jumped to my feet and hurdled over him before running into the kitchen. I cursed the browned pizza and shut off the oven. “How do you feel about charcoal? I hear it’s the new diet fad this year.”
Walking into the kitchen, he looked a little more wrinkled than before, but he still managed to look amazing. He raked his hair back and walked up to me, peering over my shoulder. “How do you feel about takeout?”
I nudged him with my elbow. “Hey. Answering questions with questions is my thing. Menus are in the folder on the fridge.”
Chapter Nineteen
I put the phone back in its cradle and turned to Aaron. “Twenty minutes.”
He snapped his fingers, his face darkened in disappointment. “Damn.”
I spun for the cabinets. “If you’re hungry, I can throw something together. Tuna salad, maybe? I have some crackers in—”
He grabbed my hands and led me out of the kitchen. “Take a breath. You don’t have to do anything. I can wait for the food to get here. What I meant was, damn, we only have twenty minutes. That’s not nearly enough time for all the things I want to do with you.”
Before I could react, he pulled me against him and kissed me. His hips pressed into mine, which pushed me into the counter, leaving me nowhere to go and no way to miss his rising arousal. I tugged my hands free and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Mmm. Appetizer?”
“Yes, please,” he growled before his hands slipped under my shirt. He pulled it up and took my bra with it. His lips found my breast and his tongue circled my nipple. My knees threatened to quit. I gripped his shoulders to stay upright.
I gasped, “Not what I had in mind.” But then he sucked hard, and I couldn’t think. I could only feel, and oh my God did it feel delicious. I held his head in place and wished for a traffic jam to keep the delivery guy stuck for hours. Cold food would be fine while Aaron was heating me from the inside. “Please.”
He shifted to tease my other nipple with the tip of his tongue. It set off sparks behind my eyes. I closed them to enjoy the view.
“Please what, baby? This?” The heat of his breath, the cold of the air, and the wetness of his tongue were like the entire world focused down to just where he touched me and the wicked sensations the contact stirred deep and low inside me. I vaguely felt his hands on my thighs, sliding up to find the waistband of my pants and tugged it down enough for his fingers to slip inside, part my lips, and find that sizzling tip. He pressed, flicked, and then moved farther and deeper, to the wet heat waiting for him.
I could have him. All I had to do was say yes, open to him, and let him in, not just body this time but heart and soul too. Did I dare dream? I knew he wanted me. All of me. Crazy as he might be for it, he wanted me.
And goddammit to hell, I wanted him too. And more. I wanted to take a chance, give myself to him, give him everything, and pray with all my heart that he didn’t break it.
“Love me, Aaron.” Could he have heard me whisper it? I wasn’t sure I’d heard it myself. Maybe it was my heart talking. “Please.”
He slid up my body, his hands wandering freely. Everything he touched felt warmer, brighter, and wonderful. When his hands framed my face, the smell of my juices on his fingers stoked the fire roaring inside me. I pulled him against me, wishing a kiss would satisfy my craving for him, but it only made the craving that much stronger.
His soft chuckle vibrated in his chest and throat. Confusion chilled my eagerness, quickly followed by fear that I’d thrown myself at him and he wasn’t as interested as I’d thought. When he pulled back, though, he smiled softly.
“I want to, baby. You have no idea how much.” His kiss soothed the cool drifting through me. “But the food will be here soon, and I need to feed you first. I’m going to make sure you have the energy to keep up with me.” He pulled down my shirt, smoothing the fabric over my breast. He punctuated every few words with a short, quick kiss. “I’m going to make love to you all night long.”
I buried my face on his chest, so he didn’t have to see the frustration raging through me. Given the bulge in his pants, he seemed to feel the same. “We’re not going to use food again, are we?”
He tapped the kitchen floor with his shiny dress shoe. “Depends. How comfortable is the floor?”
I laughed, pushing him away, instantly missing his touch. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”
He held out his hand, writing an imaginary note with a pen he didn’t have. “Note to self.”
I took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and held it out to him. “What’s this thing you were going to do in New York?”
He held the bottle to his crotch. “Oh, thank God. I was afraid I’d embarrass myself when the delivery guy got here. So, New York. I’m trying to see if I can get the backing to stage Pippin.”
“Really?”
“Have you seen it?” I shook my head. “It’s phenomenal. I did it in college, and it resonated with me. The whole thing about finding yourself, walking into the fire, and seeking out what’s completely wrong for you because of peer pressure. The whole nine yards.” He smiled. “And you might not think of me as a song-and-dance man, but I can do it. I probably should’ve kept the story in mind before I went to the mountains, but look where it got me.”
I walked up to him, laying my hand on his cheek. I loved the way his face felt when he smiled. His happiness seemed to fill me by touch. I didn’t think I’d ever get enough.
“True.” I couldn’t quite see myself as his Catherine, though the idea of someone else holding his hand did ruffle a few internal feathers. “And I’d love to see you in those tights.”
He laughed. “Would you, now?” He inspected my hand. “So, can we fit in a mani-pedi in twenty minutes?”
“We could if I owned nail polish,” I said. Then I surprised myself by adding, “And if I were naked.”
His brow shot up. “You want me to give you a naked manicure?”
He didn’t run screaming? Maybe I could ask for more. Did I dare? “Why not?”
“Damn. I hope the delivery kid gets lost. But really, we should make good use of the time. How about you call your mom?”
“What? Why?” When did I get on this rollercoaster?
“So you can tell her you forgive her.”
I took a step back. “That’s not going to fix anything.”
He took a step forward, laying his hand over my heart. “I think it will. Maybe not for her but for you. You need to let her go. Otherwise you’ll always be living under her shadow. I love you, Grace. I think maybe you could love me too, but you have to stop needing her approval. When you start accepting yourself completely the way I do, then I know you’re ready to take me on.”
“That sounds like an ultimatum.”
“It might be. Don’t get me wrong. We can stay the way we are for as long as it takes. I love the things your body does to mine. I’m still going to make love to you all night no matter what we do now. But I would so much rather you gave me everything. I need you to know you’re free of all the baggage you carry with you. What she said, and what he did—”
“Jeremy?”
“Yes, Jeremy. They hurt you deeply. They wanted you to change to suit them. You were strong enough not to, but you have scars from it. You still feel guilty for thinking they don’t approve of you. That’s why now you’re bending over backward to suit her. You need for them to love you, and you’re afraid she’ll abandon you the way he did. When you’re ready to let them go, you can come to me completely.” He froze for a moment. “Oh, shit.”
�
�What?”
He covered his eyes with his hand. “The gun. Now I get it. Jesus, I’m so sorry.”
He stood alone. I wanted to hold him and to tell him it was okay. He couldn’t have known. And it wasn’t that I didn’t forgive him because I did, but at that moment I needed to stand alone. He was right. I was still carrying their baggage, and forgiveness was such a simple gift to give and receive.
I looked at him. This wasn’t a joke. He wasn’t hiding anything from me. He wasn’t playing a role, and he sure as hell wasn’t telling me something I didn’t already know in my heart. Something I should have known before. The answer was there: if I was going to give myself to him, I had to take myself back from my past. From my pain.
I wanted him. Not just his body anymore. I was ready to receive it. But if I was going to have a future with Aaron, I was going to have to let go of my past. All of it. My mother. Jeremy. The pain that had come to be a comfortable part of my existence. It had to go.
I shut my eyes and laid my hand over my heart as if trying to shield it.
“You’re right,” I said in a faint voice. It didn’t even sound like my voice. I didn’t recognize it. “I need to forgive myself.”
I opened my eyes again to find him smiling at me. The way he looked at that moment, I knew he’d never ever have to tell me he loved me, because as long I saw him look at me like that, I’d know. I felt it. There was more meaning in that look than could be found in any word invented by man.
I reached for the phone on the wall. I didn’t look at him before I punched in the numbers I knew by heart. As the phone rang, my heart was still buoyed by my revelation and my stomach slipped. I was really doing this. I looked beside me to Aaron. I needed to stand alone while I did this. I didn’t want to lean on him. Looking at Aaron, I wondered if sometimes being strong meant knowing when to ask for help. I held my hand out to him, and he took it.
