Killing Time
Page 32
When she got out of the shower, she found the bedroom empty. Mick had left her alone, obviously not wanting to watch her pack to leave. “So why didn’t you ask me to stay?” she muttered as she returned to her own room to gather the last of her things.
Why hadn’t he? How could he make such beautiful, perfect, tender love to her and never once even broach the subject of their future? “Maybe now that the past is reconciled, he doesn’t want a future anymore.” She stared at her own reflection in the mirror, hating that she’d thought the words, much less said them aloud.
“Caro, you’re going to miss your plane,” she heard from downstairs.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, growing angry now, instead of just hurt. She’d poured her heart out. Okay, no, she hadn’t poured her heart out. All those “I love you’s” had been shouted in her brain, but not even whispered from her lips.
But still, how could he not have heard the silent declarations, when every touch, every move, every kiss and caress repeated them again and again?
“All men are deaf as well as blind,” she muttered as she hoisted her shoulder bag over her arm and prepared to go downstairs for her grand exit. That was all she had to carry. Mick had gotten her heavier things earlier, while she’d showered, so there was no more reason to delay.
When she arrived downstairs, he was standing in the foyer, leaning against the banister, a sunny smile on his face.
The fiend.
“You ready?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You take anything for the flight?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean, I know you hate to fly. Or are you just going to regale us on board with the theme songs from NBC’s ‘Must See’ TV season?”
She gave him a sour look, barely listening, waiting for him to say something—anything—to let her know how he felt.
“Here, let me take that,” he said, reaching for her carry-on.
Her fingers itched, wanting to smack him for his good mood. Dammit, why did he feel good when her heart was breaking?
But she wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t plead.
Nor, she decided, would she leave without admitting, once and for all, how she felt. She wasn’t a coward anymore, wasn’t willing to walk away with words left unsaid between them, whether they were words he wanted to hear or not.
After she left, maybe he’d think about it, acknowledge that she really did love him. And that maybe he loved her, too. Maybe it would just take some distance for both of them to figure out a way to make this long-distance relationship work.
“Okay, babe, pick up the pace. We got a long way to go.”
She dragged herself out the door after him. She barely took note of the beauty of the blue sky, the cold nip in the air that said autumn had arrived in earnest. It was punctuated by the visible puffs of breath she exhaled.
She couldn’t concentrate. Not on anything she saw, nor on anything he said, unless it might be prefaced by the words, “Caroline, I love you, don’t go.”
“Caroline?”
She sucked in a hopeful breath.
“Hope it’s a smooth flight.”
A particularly savage swearword shot through her brain. “Thanks a lot.”
Then she practically stalked to her car, beelining for the driver’s side. But the door was locked, and Mick had her keys. “Can you open the door for me?” she asked, walking around to see him unlock the trunk to place her carry-on bag inside.
That was when she noticed something.
The trunk was stuffed. Overflowing. She easily recognized her familiar, tasteful burgundy leather luggage. But there were also a couple of big, tattered, navy blue duffel bags crammed near to exploding.
She looked at the bags. Looked up at Mick. Then back down at the bags. “What is this?”
“What’s what?” he asked, slamming the lid shut and giving her a completely innocent look.
She tilted her head, confused, studying his face…and that was when she saw it. That wicked, mischievous, “gotcha” look she’d come to know and love.
“Mick—”
“What’s the weather like in California at this time of year, anyway?” he asked, not letting her finish.
“Mick!”
“I mean, I didn’t bother with heavy stuff. Until I get my Realtor’s license out there I figure I’m going to be a beach bum, anyway. You don’t mind marrying a kept man, do you? I promise I’ll make it up to you when I can start working out there. Sell a few of those multimillion-dollar mansions to the stars, and we’ll be set.”
She couldn’t help it. She reacted like a total girl. Tears rose to her eyes and she threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, God, Mick!”
He grabbed her around the waist, holding her close, burying his face in her hair. Inhaling her. Adoring her. Telling her without words that he was never letting her go.
“I love you, Caroline.”
“I love you, too, you rotten, miserable joker.”
He began to laugh. “That’s about as romantic a declaration of love as I’ve ever heard.” Then he kissed her forehead, her temple, her eyelids. “And it’s the only one I’ve ever wanted to hear.”
She pulled away, staring into his beautiful green eyes that sparked with tenderness and longing, promising the kind of future she’d been dreaming about for eight years.
“I will never let you leave me again.” His words were an oath.
“I’ll never want to. You’re sure you want to come to California?”
He nodded without a second’s hesitation. “I do. I really do. It took you coming here, waking me up to the fact that I’d been doing nothing with my life—nothing but existing, killing time—to make me realize I wanted to start living it.”
She stood up on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his, kissing him with every bit of pent-up love and emotion she’d ever felt for the man. And she began to whisper, “Love you, love you, love you.”
He caught her whisper. Whispered it back. Over and over, the two of them were standing there in his driveway, declaring their love for one another.
It was like something out of a TV show.
Finally she pulled away and stuck her index finger in his face. “Why didn’t you tell me last night? Why torture me? When did you decide? What about your house? What about your family? What about your business?”
He laughed and grabbed her hand in his, pulling her finger to his mouth for an intimate little nibble.
“I have things worked out with the business. My associates are going to run it until they can earn the capital to buy me out. The house can stay here—”
“For vacations. Holidays.”
“Weddings,” he added, obviously meaning Sophie’s.
“Christenings,” she chimed in, already picturing the children they’d have.
He understood her meaning and his eyes grew a shade darker, more intimate, more serious.
“As for why I didn’t tell you…1 had to be sure. I had to know why you left me. And what would make things different now.”
She looked up, not removing her arms from around his neck. Caro understood. Completely. “You needed to know I trusted you.”
He nodded.
“I do.”
“I know that. And I’ll never make you sorry.”
She grinned. “I know that, too.”
Turning, he put his arm around her waist and led her to the passenger side of the car. He unlocked it, watched her get in, then walked to the driver’s side.
Once inside and buckled, he looked at her beside him. “You think I’m gonna like California?”
She nodded. “I think you’re gonna love California.”
He put the car in gear, reached over and took her hand and looked toward the west.
“Then let’s go.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4564-2
KILLING TIME
Copyright © 2004 by Leslie Kelly
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