If I Loved You Less

by Noelle Adams

  “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  “It’s not my opinion that matters. It’s yours. I’m not going to push you into anything this time. That’s why I pulled so many different kinds of jobs so I wouldn’t be leading you into anything in particular. I don’t want to mess up again.”

  “You didn’t mess up,” Riot said with a smile. “I just wasn’t as talented as you believed.”

  “I still think you are, and I hope you don’t give up on painting. But we’ll just let that issue lie for the time being. The best thing would be for you to get a job. Something that’s all your own and not your family’s thing.” She paused, hearing herself. “Unless that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t want to do antiques anymore. I’m definitely over that.” Riot checked Em’s face and then pushed a paper over toward her. “What about this one?”

  Em glanced down and read the job posting, feeling a swell of pleasure when she saw what it was. “That’s an excellent nonprofit, and working with them would be a real contribution. I think you’d be good at a lot of what the job requires. You might need to finish your degree before you get a job like this, but it doesn’t say so specifically, so we could definitely apply for it and see what happens. You only have four more classes to graduate, so another option is for you to just keep working with your family until you’ve got your degree. Then there will be a lot more options for you in terms of jobs.”

  “Yeah, but that’s going to be like a year at the pace I’m going. I’ve tried doing more than one class at a time, and it was too much on top of work.”

  Em licked her lips, holding back a comment about how countless people worked full time and took more than one college class at the same time. Many of those people were also raising families. Riot was more than smart enough to pass her classes easily. Her problem had always been focus and dedication.

  But that felt like pushing, and Em was determined not to do it. The number of classes Riot took at a time was her decision. Not Em’s.

  Instead, Em said slowly, “Okay. Then we’ll keep looking for a different job now. You can apply to the nonprofit and see what happens. But in a job search, you need to apply to a bunch of places all at once. So do you see anything else here you want to consider?”

  Riot stared back down at the printouts. Em paid attention and saw Riot’s eyes hovering over one page in particular.

  Em reached over to look at it. “This one?” The posting was a job with a local dress shop.

  “I was just thinking I could do it,” Riot said quickly. “I know it’s not very important or... or contributing.”

  “It’s a perfectly good job,” Em said. “People need clothes to wear, don’t they?”

  Riot’s face relaxed and she giggled. “I guess so.”

  “If you’re interested in this one, why don’t you apply for it too. You’ve got plenty of customer service experience.” Em felt a tension in her chest about someone with Riot’s past history working for someone else’s store.

  The Darcys could hardly give her a good recommendation, given what had happened.

  “I know Mrs. Finnegan,” Em said, coming to a decision. “I can give her a call and put in a good word. No guarantees. There might be someone with a lot more experience applying. But it’s worth a try if you’re interested.”

  “I am. Thank you!” Riot’s face was all smiles.

  Em smiled back. Maybe this time she could help Riot for real.

  Things were going well in her life. She’d gone to Ward’s house every night for the past two weeks, and they’d had more and better sex than she’d ever imagined was a possibility for her. He hadn’t lectured her about her failings or acted in that obnoxious older-brother way. He’d treated her differently—like he might even need her the way she needed him.

  She wanted it to continue. She liked who she was with him.

  So she wasn’t going to blow it. She wouldn’t give Ward anything to lecture her about again.

  THE NEXT DAY WAS AN Appointment Day.

  Her father loved to go to the doctors. He had as long as she could remember. Not that he’d ever admit to such a thing, but he got some sort of high from the attention, from being able to list all his ailments to someone who had no choice but to listen. At least once a week, Em had a day where she couldn’t do anything but chauffeur her father around to his appointments.

  Today it was the ENT to check his sinuses (they were fine), the shoe store to get a fitting of his custom-made shoes (for his bad arches), and the chiropractor, whom he saw every week.

  The chiropractor didn’t have anything real to do for Em’s father anymore. He was always in alignment, and five years ago the chiropractor had told them that he’d done everything he could do for him and he didn’t really need to come back.

  But Em’s father continued to make appointments every week because, he said, his back would always be bad. So the chiropractor would always do an alignment check, let Em’s father tell him how he was feeling, and make some encouraging comments. Then he’d give him some electrical stimulation therapy, let him lie with heating pads for a few minutes, and then send him home.

  Today Em’s father spent the whole ride home talking about how the chiropractor had really worked him over today.

  Em was used to it. She didn’t mind. She nodded and smiled sympathetically and told him she was sorry he was so sore.

  When they got back to Pemberley House, her dad needed help getting out of the car. He moved around just fine, but he wanted to be sore today, so Em was going to help him.

  He didn’t have much else in his life. Just her and his ailments.

  “Just wait there, Dad,” she said, grabbing her purse as she got out of the driver’s seat. “I’ll come around and help you get out.”

  She walked around the car and was leaning over to help her father out when she heard a voice from behind her.

  It was Liz, calling out, “Is everything all right?”

  Em straightened up so she could smile and wave at her friend. Liz was getting out of the passenger seat of Vince’s car. “It’s fine.”

  “Hold on a minute and let Vince help your dad.” Liz said something to Vince, who was getting out of the driver’s side.

  Em started to object since she knew her father was perfectly fine, but Vince and Liz were already heading over.

  Her father would probably like for Vince to help support him into the house. She might as well let him.

  “How’s everything?” Vince asked when he reached them. He was a handsome, dark-haired man in his late twenties with a serious demeanor that could come across as aloof to people who didn’t know him. Em liked him, however, and not just because one of her best friends was in love with him.

  “It’s good. Dad is a little sore from the chiropractor, so he needs a little help back into the house.”

  “I’ll be happy to help you, sir,” Vince said with a quiet smile.

  “Oh, thank you. I sure do appreciate it. The chiropractor really worked me over today.”

  Em smiled at her father’s pleasure as Vince helped him out of the car. Her dad was certain to like the sober attention Vince was paying him.

  When he’d gotten to his feet, Vince kept an arm around him as they made their way to the main entrance of Pemberley House.

  Liz and Em followed at a distance.

  “Is he really okay?” Liz asked when they were far enough back to not be heard.

  “He’s really fine. It’s Appointment Day, and he had three stops today. He’s just tired. The chiropractor didn’t even make any adjustments today. It’s nice of Vince to help. That will make Dad’s day.”

  “Vince doesn’t mind.” Liz paused, like she was unsure of whether to say the next thing.

  “What?” Em prompted.

  “Is there no way you could hire a full-time nurse for your dad? That way you wouldn’t have to spend your whole day driving him around.”

  “It’s usually just one day a week. I don’t mind.”

/>   “But still, that would free you up so much and make him less dependent on—”

  “He’d never go for it. He’d hate it. He’d think it was the first step toward me leaving him.” For no good reason Em’s voice cracked on the last two words.

  “But is that really so unthinkable? If he had full-time help, you could move into another unit of Pemberley House. You’d still be close and could see him all the time, but you wouldn’t be tied—”

  “Liz, no.” Em was getting emotional. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “I can’t. He would feel like I was deserting him.”

  “But you need a life too. Your whole life is devoted to him.” Liz’s features were twisting, as if she were feeling emotional too.

  “I don’t care. I really don’t, Liz. I understand what you’re saying, but you don’t understand. My mother left us. She left him, and she left me. My father didn’t leave. He’s the only person in the world who has never... never left me.” Her eyes burned and her throat ached as she continued, “He’s devoted his whole life to me, so I’m going to devote my whole life to him. I don’t care if it ties me here. I don’t care if it means I can’t have... can’t have... what other women might have. It doesn’t matter if I have to sacrifice certain things.”

  Em stopped before she entered the building, swiping a tear away quickly. There was no way she could let her father see she was crying.

  Liz’s green eyes were deep and sympathetic. “You always said you didn’t want those things. Has something changed?”

  Em thought for a minute, trying to decide how much she should tell her friend. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about something as tentative as what she had with Ward, but she also didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know. Not really. Lately I’ve just been thinking about... about what it might be like. If I could have more.”

  She’d tried not to think those things. She’d tried to enjoy having sex with Ward without hoping for more, without imagining what it would be like to be with him more deeply, be with him for real.

  For the most part, she’d kept her mind under control, but every once in a while she slipped.

  She wondered if Ward could ever want a future with her.

  She wondered if she could ever wear that dress hanging in her spare room. Walk down the aisle in it toward Ward.

  They were ridiculous dreams. Ward obviously liked having sex with her, but otherwise he still treated her the way he always had. He wasn’t romantic. He didn’t open up. He didn’t want to be her husband—or even her boyfriend. If she acted stupidly again, he’d probably start lecturing her the way he always had.

  Like she was a child and not a woman he might one day love.

  She couldn’t let herself hope for it. And the sad fact was that, even if he might suggest it, Em could never leave her father.

  Romance and marriage just wasn’t for her. It never had been, and sex with Ward hadn’t changed anything.

  “What’s changed, Em?” Liz reached out to hold on to Em’s wrist in her urgency. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Em gave her head a tight shake. “I’m not... not ready to talk about it.”

  “Okay. I know you’ve arranged your whole life around what you need to do for your father, but if you really want something more or different, there’s got to be a way to work it out.”

  “It doesn’t really matter,” Em said, pulling herself together. “It’s just a passing thought. Now I better get upstairs before my dad thinks I’ve fallen and broken my ankle.”

  Liz didn’t seem to believe Em’s denial, but she didn’t argue. She walked with Em up to the second floor where their units were located.

  Before Em went through her front door, Liz said, “But just in case you don’t know, your dad isn’t the only one who’s never going to leave you. I’m never going to leave you either.”

  Em almost lost it when Liz pulled her into a hug.

  WARD HAD BEEN HAVING a very good two weeks, but he was starting to chomp at the bit a little at the restrictions placed on his relationship with Em.

  It was sex. Just sex. And their normal companionship.

  It was what they’d agreed to, and it was the only thing Ward had believed he wanted. But it was starting to feel like... not enough.

  It was becoming frustrating to hold back. To only be able to touch her when she was in his bed at night. To not be able to claim her as his to the world.

  He’d always considered himself a laid-back, accommodating man who didn’t go to battle over small things, but he was riled up more and more, feeling defensive, like he didn’t have a firm grasp on his world and so it could be plundered at any moment.

  Like Em was always on the verge of being taken away from him—and taking all the warmth and light and beauty of the world with her.

  It didn’t leave him feeling very settled.

  At the moment, he was pretending to work, blowing fallen leaves off the parking lot. But he was mostly watching Em on the terrace with her friends and sister, enjoying their pink-champagne Thursdays.

  He was glad Em had friends like that. She needed them. And he was relieved their tradition continued, even as Jane and Liz were engaged. But part of him resented their connection to Em. Not that they were close to her. He was happy about that. But that they could announce to the world that they were good friends. That everyone could see it.

  And he couldn’t do the same with his relationship with Em.

  He shouldn’t even want to claim her as a girlfriend or partner. That would make it real, which would make it breakable.

  Em didn’t want a committed relationship with him. Her father would always come first in her heart. Ward couldn’t let himself hope for something that he knew would never happen since it would only lead to another breaking of a heart that had never fully healed.

  But it was still hard not to want just a little more from Em than he had.

  He was gazing up at her stupidly from the distance, wondering if there had ever been any woman more beautiful and vibrant than she was, when a car pulled into the lot. He glanced over and then turned off his blower when he saw the driver was Riot.

  “Hi, Knightley!” She waved at him enthusiastically as she climbed out of the car. “You always work so hard.”

  “It’s not that hard. Just blowing some leaves.”

  He had to admit that Riot had improved in the past year. She wasn’t always giggling or pouting like she’d been before. It was possible to have a real conversation with her now.

  Despite his concerns, he knew that much of this improvement was thanks to Em and the time and effort she’d invested in the girl.

  “It looks like hard work to me.” Riot came over to stand in front of him. She was smiling widely. Too widely.

  It suddenly set off warning bells in Ward’s mind.

  He took a step back. “You going to have champagne with the others?”

  “Yes. They invited me. You should join us.”

  “I don’t think they’d want a man to barge into their pink-champagne tradition. Besides, I have work to do.”

  “I’m looking for a job. Did you know that?”

  “Em mentioned it. I hope you can find something good.”

  “I’ve got three applications submitted, so we’ll see.” Her eyes dropped and then slanted up again in a look that he supposed was supposed to be alluring. “You sure you don’t want to join us?”

  “I’m sure. I’ll see you around.” He turned away and walked to the other side of the lot, mostly to put some distance between them.

  Surely Riot hadn’t been flirting with him.

  Maybe he’d read her wrong.

  Maybe she was the kind of woman who flirted with everyone.

  But she’d never acted that way before. Not with him. Her attention seemed marked. Intentional.

  Oh shit, he really didn’t want to deal with that. He had a feeling she’d be a pain in the ass to fend off.

  The good thing was, if she mentioned her
interest, Em would immediately discourage her. Even if he wasn’t having sex with Em, she’d never let Riot think he could possibly have any interest in the girl.

  If Em was already too young for him, Riot was impossibly young. And not even close to grown-up yet.

  Besides, she wasn’t his type.

  Em was his type. Exactly his type.

  He just hadn’t known it until a few weeks ago.

  THAT EVENING, EM WAS naked and straddling his hips as she moved over him. Ward had never seen anything as gorgeous as she was at the moment, her blond hair loose and swaying, firm, rounded breasts jiggling with her motion, her eyes deep and wild and needy as she worked up to climax.

  He was rocking beneath her urgently, riding her from below. And he lost it as he watched Em come. Her back arched, her mouth fell open, a wash of pleasure transformed her face.

  He came too. He couldn’t help it. He needed this—needed her—too much.

  He was still limp and panting when Em untangled herself from him, took care of the condom, and went to the bathroom. She closed the door, but he heard the toilet flush and then heard the water running in the sink.

  She came out wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts. She smiled as she climbed back into bed with him, and he immediately pulled her over so she was pressed up against his side.

  “I like being on top,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Is that some sort of hint that I’m too bossy or something?”

  “Nothing of the kind. You’re just the right amount of bossy in bed.”

  “You’re kind of bossy too, you know.” She rubbed his bare chest with one hand.

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. That’s right. You act all laid-back and easygoing, but you’re really quite bossy, if you want to know the truth.”

  “I thought you liked my brand of bossy. You sure seemed to like it last night when I was telling you what to do.”

  She giggled. “I have absolutely no complaints about your bossiness in bed.”