But she’d never had even an inkling of the kind of desolation that now formed her world. She struggled grimly through each day, trying to ignore the pain, trying to focus on the goal of getting through one more minute.
Surely it had to end. She couldn’t continue to feel this soul-scorching anguish hour after hour after hour. Surely it had to get better.
The problem was she didn’t know how to make it happen. At first, she’d simply fallen apart, curled on her living room couch, weeping helplessly. Unfortunately, Paige had chosen that weekend to return the digital camera she’d borrowed a few weeks before; once she’d seen Delaney, she’d refused to leave. That visit was the reason for the current Cheer Up Delaney drive. That was why the whole gang was looking at her as if she was ready to jump off a cliff. Even Thea found an excuse to call or send e-mail nearly every day.
Delaney hadn’t bothered to get really drunk; she knew it wouldn’t help. Neither did going out, but at least it pushed her away from the stifling memories gathered within the four walls of her house. At least it made the hours pass. And when she couldn’t cope anymore and began to fear that she’d start screaming one day and never stop, being out was the only answer. So she hit the clubs with, well, everybody she knew. Oh, she danced, she had cocktails, she faked a credible laugh. And she tried to tell herself that she didn’t feel like an amputee, grieving for the loss of something she would never have again.
But this night, she couldn’t maintain the illusion. All she really wanted was to be home, curled up on her couch. No, that wasn’t true. All she really wanted was to be at home on her couch with Dom at her side, the Dom she thought she’d known. The Dom she’d loved.
The Dom who’d proven to be an illusion.
And if that meant that she’d finally become stodgy and boring, she didn’t give a damn.
SATURDAY MORNING. EIGHTY degrees. Dom scowled at the sunny day. He didn’t want to see sunny. He had two days at home before heading out on yet another leg of the road show. He needed to work.
Except that he couldn’t focus a lick.
His laptop was humming away as it had for so many years, but suddenly he couldn’t make himself care. Clearly, he was burned out from the road show.
No. It was because of Delaney.
And with a tiny flare of desperate relief, he thought of the swing through Manhattan that Lurie had crafted for them the following week. So what if it meant more hotels and airports? It also meant escape from a place where the walls still echoed with the ghost of Delaney’s laughter, where the mirrors still held an impression of her teasing smile.
Abruptly, he shut down the computer. He’d take a break, he decided, read the paper. And he went out on the deck. A light breeze rattled the palm fronds and teased at the pages of the financial section he held. But he didn’t see the words in front of him; what he saw was Delaney standing on the balcony, staring at the silhouetted palms.
When the IPO was over, he told himself, he’d go find her. He’d find her and no matter how long it took, he’d convince her they would work. After the IPO, he thought.
And after the IPO it’ll be something else. And maybe it was better that it had fallen apart. Maybe she was correct. That would be a pretty damning realization to make, he told himself, because nothing had ever felt so right for him before.
Until the day it all went wrong.
Enough! He slapped down the paper and went back inside. He’d take a walk if that was what it took, get out of the house. Except that ducking into the garage to get his sneakers meant he had to look at the GTO. And the memory storm hit in earnest, battering him with images of driving her back home, listening to her sing with the radio.
Watching her pleasure the night they’d made love.
He made a noise of frustration. He needed something to take up his time, take up his energy. He needed something to immerse himself in.
And then he glanced up and saw his surfboard hanging in a rack on the wall.
THERE WERE A MILLION excuses she could offer Meghan, Delaney thought. She had to work. She had to go see her parents. She thought she was coming down with something. She could even tell the truth, that she’d just gotten her heart stomped and the last thing she felt like doing was dealing with a bunch of kids at a soccer match.
But she’d given her word, after all, and lying wasn’t her thing. Besides, what were her alternatives? Go shopping and try not to think of Dom? Go Rollerblading and try not to remember the feel of his mouth? Go out with her friends and try to pretend that a piece of her wasn’t missing?
So in the end, she went.
The first thing she discovered about kids’ soccer was that it was never dull. It was also, with the five-year-olds on her team, not particularly about soccer. Strategy was a completely incomprehensible concept. The little girls got the idea of kicking, but they didn’t know how to think about passing or defending—they just happily trounced on the ball.
A player might join the game—and she might equally as well break off to stare at a bird flying by. Sometimes they spent five minutes adjusting their socks and sometimes they stood and burst into tears for no reason at all.
Then there was the little girl who decided to protect the ball by sitting on it. It took Delaney a good ten minutes of fast talking to change her mind, especially since the girl made the unassailable point that this way the other team couldn’t get any goals.
And for the first time in two weeks, Delaney found herself laughing, really laughing.
The kids yanked at their shirts, got on their knees on the grass to look at bugs, and even, occasionally—
“What’s the…What’s Selena doing?” Meghan demanded.
Delaney’s lips quirked at the sight of the blond, pigtailed girl standing alone at the far end of the field. “Sucking her arm, I think.”
“Okay, it’s official. I have seen it all,” Meghan muttered.
The loss wasn’t gone. It was merely hiding in the background. But the laughter tasted so sweet.
Delaney chuckled. “I’ll see what’s happening.”
Selena kept her forearm to her mouth, watching the ebb and flow of the game with lively interest. Delaney approached. “Hey, Selena.”
“Hi, Ms. Phillips.” Selena moved her forearm away and inspected it carefully.
“Something wrong there?”
“I got scratched by Chelsea and I’m bleeding. Look.”
Delaney studied the hickey-like red patch on the proffered arm, finally spying the nearly invisible source of Selena’s concern. “I think you’ll survive,” she assured her.
“Oh, no. I need a Band-Aid,” Selena said gravely, “so I don’t bleed to death.”
The corners of Delaney’s mouth pulled up. “Well, let’s go get you one. I think Ms. Fuller has Mickey Mouse Band-Aids,” she said, guiding Selena with a hand on her back.
“I like Tigger Band-Aids the best,” Selena asked with a connoisseur’s assurance. “A Tigger Band-Aid will fix anything.”
A Tigger Band-Aid, Delaney thought as they walked back. Maybe that was what she needed. Maybe she needed a whole box of them.
DOM SAT ON HIS BOARD IN the water out beyond the break, feeling the rise and fall of the swells. Gulls flew overhead. The sets were nice and regular, thanks to a storm out at sea: a couple of five footers, then alternating six-foot and five-foot waves, followed by a nine-foot behemoth that he wanted no part of. He’d stick with the smaller ones, thanks, at least until he’d gotten more of the rust off.
The warmth of the sun on his shoulders did almost nothing to dispel the chill of the water that crept up through his hands and feet, even through his wetsuit. That was the Pacific, cool even in high summer. The other times he’d been to the beach with Delaney, he hadn’t noticed. He’d been focused on the waves, on regaining the skills he’d once had.
Or maybe he’d just been too happy to care.
He snorted at himself. Maudlin crap. He wasn’t here to think, he was here to surf. That was the point, to keep
himself from thinking. Squinting back at a swell, Dom gauged his timing and began paddling, feeling the strain in his muscles. He hadn’t started early enough, though, and the wave passed him by.
He’d had better days, that was for sure.
Better days in lots of ways.
So he needed practice. All the better that he was out here. He should find a way to get out more often. Maybe after the IPO was done.
And maybe if he did it enough, he’d stop catching himself staring up the beach, looking for Delaney.
He cursed when he missed the next comber, distracted in his timing.
Ironic that Delaney was the one who’d brought him back to the pleasure of surfing, yet the loss of her kept dominating his day. It would get better in time, he told himself, when he wasn’t beaten down by the IPO, when he wasn’t so concerned over staying on top of the details.
When he didn’t feel like hell over her anymore.
Irritated with himself, he paddled furiously for the next swell, getting it right this time so that the power caught hold of his board and sent him surging forward. And he popped onto his feet, feeling the press of the water against his quads, feeling himself rise. Too fast, he thought suddenly. Too high; he was seeing the beach from a different angle. The back of his neck prickled. He’d lost count of the waves in the set.
He’d caught the behemoth.
The adrenaline rush sluiced through his system, helping him to stay balanced, strong as he carved his way up the face. Not that he had much of a chance of going out the back door but what the hell. He’d make it a memorable ride. Delaney had always told him that life wasn’t anything without risks. It wasn’t enough to work, you had to play and play hard, and take it out to the edge every once in a while.
And suddenly he missed her so much it was like a knife being twisted in his gut.
He’d blown it, he realized, totally, completely and utterly. He’d been an idiot, trying to separate her out of his life like he was sorting lug nuts. She wasn’t part of his life, she was his life. She’d changed it, brought him back to someone he’d once been. Made him happy.
And he’d pushed her away.
He’d thought he was so smart, setting his priorities, deciding what he could set aside, what he could take time for. But you didn’t prioritize the people you cared about and you didn’t prioritize your feelings. He knew that now.
Suddenly, the sunlight took on a bluish cast. A quick glance upward showed Dom the lip of the wave coming down.
And before he could take a breath, it broke over the top of him.
It was like being plunged into a maelstrom, every part of him dragged and buffeted in a different direction at once by invisible hands. The water shoved him down to the bottom where sharp shells and gravelly sand scoured at him but that was nothing compared to the burning in his lungs. He needed oxygen desperately. He fought for the surface but his leash had come undone and he didn’t have the tug from his board to remind him of what direction was up. There was only swirling, airless chaos that went on too long.
But as he’d reached the end of what he could do, the wave released him and he popped up through the white water, gasping for breath, fighting his way up onto the sand.
It left him shaken, it left him sore, it left him so exhausted he could scarcely go retrieve his board. And it left him absolutely certain of one thing.
He had to go find her.
“SO DO YOU HATE ME FOR life for getting you into that?” Meghan asked as she stopped her car before her house.
Delaney laughed as she got out. “I actually thought it was a stitch. I liked it. Let me know if you ever need a sub again.”
“You’re sick.”
“You like it, too, or you wouldn’t do it.”
“I suppose. But I’m telling you, there are plenty of days I have serious doubts about the people who are procreating out there.”
“That usually happens for me when I date someone,” Delaney laughed and started walking to her own house, looking back over her shoulder so she could continue talking. “Speaking of which, you wouldn’t want to go out for a drink tonight, would you?”
“Oh, sorry, hon, I’ve got plans.”
“Fine, abandon me,” Delaney complained as she reached the edge of her property. “I’ll show you. I’ll go out alone and have a great—”
And she stopped dead.
Dom sat there on her front steps, dark and disheveled and completely delicious. For an instant, her lungs seemed paralyzed, unable to take in any air. Her heart hammered in her chest. Fear? Hope? The seconds passed, how many, she couldn’t say. So, she took a deep breath and began walking.
The front gate squeaked as she opened it. Every detail of her yard and her house seemed unnaturally clear. She felt each separate muscle in her body as she walked. And his eyes stayed on her all the time.
“Hi,” he said as she stopped before him.
“What are you doing here?”
He rose. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“Have you been in a fight?” She asked with a frown. He had a scuff on one cheek and a thin cut on his chin.
“No. I, uh, miscalculated on a surfboard,” he said. “Can I talk with you?”
She looked at him. “I don’t know, can you?”
His mouth curved in reluctant admiration. “You’re tough.”
He could think that, if he wanted. Only she knew how wrong he was. Then she passed him to unlock the door and walked inside, leaving it open behind her.
After a minute, he followed.
Delaney put down her purse, dropping it quickly so that she could ignore the fact that her hands were shaking. She turned to face him. “So what do you want?”
He shifted a little. “I was kind of hoping we could sit down.”
“Feel free.” She didn’t move. “You wanted to talk. Talk.” She wouldn’t get sucked in. She wasn’t going to look at him in his shorts and T-shirt and remember Mexico, remember all the good times they’d had.
Dom sat, finally, facing her, letting out a long breath and looking down at his hands. “I guess the first thing I want to do is apologize. I tried to say some things the last time we talked and I didn’t do a very good job of it.”
“I thought you did a very good job.” She kept her voice cool. “You made your point quite clearly.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, I think ‘I don’t have the bandwidth for you’ is pretty clear,” she said, her voice grim.
He gave a tight-lipped sigh. “I hurt you and I didn’t mean to. That’s no excuse and I’m sorry.” He met her eyes. “What I was trying to say was that it wasn’t permanent. I wanted a couple of weeks to get things sorted out and then we could go back to the way things were.”
“I’m not a television, Dom,” she said sharply. “You can’t turn me on when you feel like entertainment and then turn me back off again. It doesn’t work that way.”
“I’m not saying it does.” He cursed. “Okay, I’m screwing this up again.”
“Why don’t you just go?” she burst out. She had to get him away because if he kept talking she’d say yes and living that way would kill her soul. “I don’t want to talk about this any more. I don’t want to be dangling around for the times you feel like playing, I don’t care how pretty you suggest it.”
“And I don’t want you just dangling around, either. That’s the point.” His voice rose. “I don’t want to turn you on and off. I don’t want to turn us on and off. I know I said that and I thought that was what I wanted, but I was wrong. I was an idiot and I didn’t realize it until you were gone.”
Delaney stood staring at him, absolutely silent, absolutely still.
“I said a lot of things that were wrong. I talked about the business and the IPO and how important they are to me. But they aren’t the most important thing. The most important thing is you.”
“You can’t do this.” Her voice was barely audible. “You can’t wait until the timing works for you again, until
your IPO is over, and reel me back in.” Not when I love you.
“It’s not over. I’ve got two days and then I go back out. But when I go out, I want to go knowing that you’re a part of my life, that in some way you’re there with me.”
And it snatched the breath from her lungs.
He rose to walk toward her. “When my dad died, I got very focused on taking care of the family, taking care of the business. It was what he asked of me before he died. But I let it take over. And maybe part of that was a way of dealing with my dad’s death, but I let it change me. I didn’t really understand that until we got back together. I’d gotten to where all I did was work, until you reminded me there was more,” he said softly, reaching out for her hand. “And now it’s just not okay to be without you.”
Delaney blinked. There was no point in pretending her eyes weren’t swimming. But…“What happens the next time you feel like you’re spinning too many plates? This thing that’s come between us is not going to go away. I don’t want to be the one that goes down, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re letting down your family to choose me.”
“Yeah, the business and using the business to take care of my family are and will always be important parts of my life. This is part of who I am. But you’re part of who I am, too.” He put a hand to her cheek. “I want what we are together, for both of us. Because it was good, all of it. Including the crazy dares and the taking chances and doing things that show we’re alive.” He kissed her gently. “I love you, Delaney, just the way you are. I know that now. And I’m not ready to live without you.”
And suddenly the aspect of her that had been empty was filled with an almost incomprehensible level of joy. “You love me?” she whispered.
He rested his forehead against hers, put his hands on her waist. “Depend on it. It took me sixteen years to find you again and if it takes another sixteen to convince you, I’ll do it. I’m not letting you go.”
I’m not letting you go. Heart thudding, she took a breath. Now or never, she told herself. “I love you, too.”
Bad Behavior Page 21
