by Noelle Adams
She stared at him, the hope she’d been feeling suddenly crashing into heartache again. “I…I understand. I hadn’t thought about all that, but I understand. That’s asking too much. I would never be worth all that for you.”
He choked on a rough sound. “Of course, you would be worth it. But we’d just be starting out. I’m not foolish enough to expect you to feel the same way I do. I know we’d have to begin casually. I’d never put pressure on you to make it serious so soon. Last night was incredible, but I never should have let it happen. I just don’t know how I can upend my entire life—and my mother’s life—and at the same time risk…risk my heart that way.” He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek with his knuckles. “I’d never get over it. I just can’t take that risk.”
She stared at him blindly, trying to process what she’d just heard.
“You understand, don’t you, honey?” Michael asked hoarsely. “I never wanted to hurt you. I get that you might think it would be crazy for us not to have more nights like last night. But it would be so much more for me than just dating you. I don’t think I can do it.”
She was almost panting now as so many different powerful emotions vied for control inside her. Finally, frustration won out. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to shake him—although he was so much bigger than her it was a futile effort. “You idiot! You absolute idiot!”
He grabbed her wrists and pulled them down as she tried to shake him some more. “Claire, what’s gotten into you?” He was stronger than her, so he managed to stop her flailing. “Believe it or not, I’m not inclined to share my personal feelings and that wasn’t exactly easy for me to say. You’re really calling me an idiot?”
“Because you are an idiot. What if I want more from you too?”
He took her face in his hands. “I know we’re really good together. And, after last night, you know it too. But didn’t you understand about how much more there is at stake for me?”
“Yes, I heard you. You’re not hearing me. You’re so caught up in your doomed saga that it never even occurred to you that I might adore you too.”
“What did you say?” He’d frozen, all the tension inside him shuddering in his tight posture, in his blue eyes.
She pulled her wrists out of his grip and took his hands instead, so their clasped hands were held between their bodies. “You heard me. I adore you too. Speaking of things that are hard for one to do, do you have any idea how hard it was for me to come here to talk to you, after you’d rejected me? I…I almost couldn’t do it. There’s no other man in the world I would have gone against my nature for—no one except my dad. But I thought…I knew…you were worth it. Even though you’re an idiot.”
“So what are you saying?” He was always so quick that she knew how hard this had hit him, since he couldn’t seem to keep up with the conversation.
“I’m saying that this wouldn’t be casual for me. It would be just as serious as it is for you. I’m in it all the way too.”
“You are?”
She peered up at him, trying to read into the stunned awe on his face. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
“Because you’re…you’re you. And you could have any man you wanted.”
Her mouth twisted in emotion as she realized he actually believed such a thing was true. “Even if that nonsense is right—which it isn’t—it still wouldn’t matter. Because the man I want is you.”
“Are you sure? I’m not romantic, charming, or particularly forthcoming about my feelings.” Something had changed in his demeanor, though. He wasn’t doing such a good job holding himself back. He’d slid an arm around her waist and was combing the other hand through her hair. “Plus, I’m way too old for you.”
“I don’t want a charming, romantic talker. Too much talking makes me crazy. You know that.” Feeling like her battle had already been won, she let herself give him a sweet smile. “And I don’t think you’re too old. You can’t be much more than forty.”
He made a choking sound. “Forty? I’m not even thirty-fi—“ He must have suddenly realized she was teasing him. She hadn’t been able to sustain her innocent smile. “Damn it, Claire.”
She laughed helplessly, and he pulled her into a tight hug.
“Please stop making up ridiculous excuses,” she said, muffled by his shirt. “If you don’t want me, then I would accept it. But I’m not going to accept anything else. So just tell me the truth. Do you want me?”
“More than anything.”
“Then we’re fine. Because I want you too.”
He eased her head back so he could look down into her face, and she saw everything she needed in his eyes. No stoic mask. No reluctance. No hiding anymore.
She reached up and pulled his head down into a kiss.
He responded immediately, taking over the initiative with strong hands and hungry mouth. She was breathless when he finally drew back and gathered her into another hug.
“So it’s all right?” she asked at last, clinging to him because she was feeling too much to even stay on her feet. “I know it’s asking a lot for you, so if you really don’t want to—“
“Of course, I want to. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long. I just didn’t think it would ever happen.”
“Well, that’s because you’re an idiot.”
He laughed, and his arms tightened around her even more. “I’m not about to argue with you about that.”
She straightened up, although she was still holding onto his shirt. The fabric was damp and hopelessly wrinkled. “Do you think we could maybe leave the bathroom now? I’d kind of like to sit down.”
They were smiling when they left the bathroom, both of them looking a little worse for wear. A passing nurse raised her eyebrows sky-high when she saw them.
They went back into his mother’s room and sat down. Claire was so exhausted from the intensity of the last twenty-four hours that she was almost incapable of talking. Michael seemed to understand that she needed silence to restore her equilibrium, and he didn’t try to engage her for a long time.
She thought he probably appreciated the silence too.
After about a half-hour, his mother started to wake up. She was disoriented at first, but she accepted the cup of hot tea Michael made her and she seemed very pleased at the unexpected pleasure of his visit in the middle of the day.
She seemed more lucid than when Claire had seen her last night, and eventually her eyes landed on Claire.
Her gaze cut from Michael to Claire and then back again. “Is this the one?” she asked softly.
Michael met Claire’s eyes briefly before he answered. “She’s the one.”
“Everything is good?”
“Yes, everything is good.”
For a moment, Claire was sure the woman knew exactly what was going on and what her son’s words meant. But then she drifted into disorientation again because she muttered, “I’m so sorry about the bike.”
“What’s the bike?” Claire asked, partly out of curiosity and partly because his mother was looking at her when she said the words.
“It’s nothing. Just an old story from the past.” Michael had glanced away diffidently.
“It’s not nothing,” his mother said. “He was only ten years old, and he wanted a beautiful blue, ten-speed bike. We couldn’t afford it, so he worked all summer mowing lawns to save money for it. Weeks and weeks and weeks he worked. Way too hard for such a little boy.”
Raising a hand to her chest at the thought of Michael as that boy, Claire asked, “What happened?”
“Someone stole his money. An older boy in the neighborhood.”
“Oh, no,” Claire breathed, her voice cracking. She glanced at Michael, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“He knew who it was, and he tried to get it back. He came back black and blue with a cracked rib. He wouldn’t tell us who had done it to him.” The memory hurt his mother so much that one of her eyes streamed with tears. “He was only ten. My poor little boy.”
&nb
sp; “Oh, no,” Claire said again, swallowing over the emotion. “He never got the bike?”
“We tried to save enough to buy it for him, but we just couldn’t scrape out enough. He never got the bike. I’m so sorry, Mikey.”
“It’s not your fault.” Michael’s voice was rougher than normal. “Please don’t worry about it, Mom. It was a long time ago. I never needed the bike.”
If she hadn’t understood before why he’d left her that morning, she understood perfectly now.
In some ways, Michael was still that boy—working so hard and expecting to never really get what he wanted. So much so that he wasn’t comfortable asking for it.
Even with the quiet time for recovery she’d had earlier, it was still too much for Claire. She had to leave the room.
She walked the halls for a few minutes, trying to pull herself together, telling herself she was just emotional because it had been such a long twenty-four hours, that she’d return to her normal quiet composure soon.
Very soon.
She’d wandered into a small reception area and was looking out the window at a pleasant, grassy lawn when she felt a warm arm wrap around her middle from behind.
Michael pressed himself against her back.
“Hi,” she managed to say.
He’d tilted his head, trying to see her expression. “It was a long time ago, Claire. It was no big deal.”
She shook with suppressed emotion. “It was a big deal. It was…it was terrible.”
“My mom is just hung up on it, but it really wasn’t any sort of tragedy. Please don’t get upset about it. It was just one of things.”
She lost her fight for control. She turned around and sobbed a few times into his chest.
“Damn it, Claire,” he said, holding her very tightly. “Please don’t cry over such a silly thing.”
“I can’t help it,” she choked out, pulling back and gazing up at him “I just love that little boy.”
His face softened. “That little boy hasn’t existed in a really long time.”
She sniffed. “I love the man too.”
He grabbed her face so suddenly she gasped. “Do you mean that?”
“Well, yeah. Don’t you love me too?”
He leaned forward and kissed her, still cupping her face like it was precious. “Of course, I love you.”
“Good. I’m glad.” She shifted from foot to foot. “I hate to break the romantic moment, but if I don’t get some alone time soon I’m literally going to pass out.”
Michael laughed. “I’ve got some things to do anyway. We can go ahead and leave. Let me just say goodbye to my mother.”
When they went back to the room, his mother was out of it again. She must be getting tired, since she didn’t seem to know who they were or what was going on.
But she mumbled out a question to Michael, “So you finally got the bike?”
Michael paused for a moment before he answered. But then he said, “Yes. I got the bike.”
***
Claire woke up feeling pleasantly groggy and much less emotionally strained.
She’d gotten to her father’s place and had gone immediately to take a two-hour nap. It didn’t matter how completely in love she was or how exhilarated she felt about getting together with Michael. She still needed some alone time if she wanted to function.
But she felt good as she stretched on the bed of the room she’d grown up in. She was lying on top of the covers, with just a cashmere throw pulled over her.
She wondered what Michael was doing. He’d come to the house with her, but she assumed he’d left to go home afterwards.
On that thought, she reached over to grab her phone and dialed his number.
“Hey,” he said when he picked up, his voice warm in a way that made her want to melt into a sappy puddle.
“Hi. Where are you?”
“In the office downstairs.”
She gave an outraged huff. “It’s supposed to be your vacation.”
“I was just clearing out some loose ends. I didn’t have anything else to do.”
“Well, you could just take it easy.”
“I’m happy to take it easy now. Are you ready for some company?”
“Sure. What did you want to do?”
Instead of an answer, she heard a tap on her bedroom door.
She laughed and called out, “Come in.”
Michael stepped into the room with a smile and closed the door behind him. He looked absolutely adorable in his wrinkled trousers and dress shirt, but he also looked really tired. She could see it in his eyes and in his posture.
Her smile fading, she said, “You should have taken a nap too.”
Since she made no move to get off the bed, he came over to sit on the edge. “I’m not inclined to nap in the middle of the day.”
“Well, you should reconsider that inclination. You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?”
“No.”
“Even after you caught that guy?”
He gave a half-shrug.
“Why not?”
He glanced away.
“Michael, why not?”
“I thought it would be my only night with you. I wasn’t going to miss any of it sleeping.”
She was pretty sure her face reflected the surge of emotion she felt as she reached out her arms to pull him into a hug. When they finally pulled apart, he was stretched out on the bed beside her.
“Don’t get sappy on me,” he murmured dryly. “One of the things I love about you is that you don’t always feel compelled to talk.”
She made a face. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Uh huh.” He turned on his side to face her.
“Did you talk to my dad about your job?”
“Yeah. I have a month’s worth of vacation days built up, so he told me to take them. Then he said there’s a position in security at the studio that’s going to open up next month. The one he offered me a few years ago. He said there wouldn’t be any conflict of interest with my working that job.”
She perked up at this piece of news. “Really? What about your mom?”
“He said she should stay where she is. I tried to argue, but he wouldn’t budge.”
“He prides himself on taking care of his people. He’ll just get offended if you don’t let him.”
“He’s pretty great.”
She bloomed, as if he’d given her a personal compliment. “I know he is.”
Michael leaned over to give her a little kiss. “He’s got a pretty great daughter too.”
She smiled against his lips, but she was frowning as she pulled away. “You turned down that job before. Are you sure you’ll be happy doing it?”
“Of course. It’s a great job and right up my alley.”
“Then why did you turn it down before?”
He glanced away from her again, the way he always did when he didn’t want to answer.
She didn’t want to force him to answer if he was uncomfortable, but she also really wanted to know. “Did it have something to do with me?”
“Maybe.” When she just kept looking at him, he finally admitted, “I never would have seen you if I took that job. I didn’t think I could have you, but I still wanted to see you.”
Her face twisted slightly.
“Don’t,” he warned. “Remember what I said about getting sappy.”
She choked on a little laugh. “Well, you’re really pushing my ability to resist. I’m a girl, you know.”
“I am well aware of that.” His voice sounded a little thick in a way that gave her very particular ideas. As if he was reading her mind, he asked in that same tone, “So how are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“You had enough alone time?”
“Yeah.”
“So what did you want to do this afternoon?”
She knew what he wanted to do. She could see the hot tension smolder in his eyes. But he hadn’t made any move on her, holding himself back the way he’
d always done. “What did you want to do?” she asked.
“I’m flexible.”
Slightly concerned that he was going to continue his old habit of self-denying restraint, she frowned at him. “This is never going to work if you don’t let me know what you want.”
“You’re putting a lot of pressure on making plans for the afternoon, aren’t you?”
She ignored his dry tone. “You know what I mean. We’re in a relationship now, aren’t we? I’d never expect you to spill your guts, but you need to let me know what you want and need. This is about you as much as me.”
He didn’t respond, but his eyes met hers and she knew he understood what she was trying to say.
After a minute, she asked again, “So what did you want to do?”
“I’d like to have sex, if it’s not too much trouble.”
She burst into laughter and rolled over on top of him, loving the feel of his big, warm, strong body beneath her. “I guess I can muddle through such a thing, but it will be a real sacrifice on my part.”
His hands slid down to cup her bottom, and he was smiling with only his eyes. “If you’d rather be alone…”
“Certainly not. I’m shy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to have a lot of sex.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
They were both smiling when they started to kiss and, even when they both got hungry and urgent, they didn’t really stop smiling.
Neither of them had transformed into new people, but everything had changed just the same.
And it had happened in only one night.
About the Author
Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.
