by E. L. Todd
Yeah, that sounds good.
Thank god. That could have gone over much differently. Alright, I’ll see you then.
K.
I stared at the phone and typed another message. Come to dinner with me.
With your mom?
Yeah, why not? I hoped she planned on meeting her anyway.
I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Why not?
It’s short notice and I’m just not ready.
Fair enough. I was disappointed, but if I pushed her too hard I might make things worse. I’ll see you when we’re finished.
Okay.
***
We chatted quietly over dinner, making small talk about work and the case I was working on. She told me she was going to a charity event next weekend, and she needed a new pair of shoes for her dress.
“So…anyone special in your life?” This question always came up—every single time. “Anything happen with that girl who stayed at your place?” All she wanted was for me to settle down and be happy. After Francesca left me she thought I was a wounded dog that would never get better.
“Actually, yeah.”
“Yeah what?” She dropped her fork onto her plate, making a loud clanking sound.
“I’m seeing someone—that girl from the beach house.”
“That’s wonderful.” Her voice went up a few octaves. “Absolutely wonderful. Why didn’t you bring her along?”
“I wanted it just to be us.”
“Tell me everything about her.”
I appreciated my mom’s enthusiasm, but she took it too far sometimes. “She’s an architect in the city. She’s a brunette with green eyes, and she has the soul of a nun. She’s beautiful, to say the least. And I really like her.”
“Awe, that’s so wonderful.”
“But whether I have a girlfriend or not, I’m okay.”
Mom looked away, guilty.
“Francesca and I have been broken up for a long time and I’m in a good place—so is she. I’m happy for her. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“She’s a two-timing little bitch, if you ask me.”
“Mom.” I didn’t owe Francesca anything, but I still cared about her. She was always faithful to me, but her heart couldn’t deny what it wanted. She should have been with Hawke to begin with—and I should have bowed out the second time. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“What?” she said innocently. “It’s the truth.”
“She made the right choice.” Not just because she was clearly destined for Hawke, but because I knew she wasn’t the right person for me. When Rose walked into my life everything became clear. I was grateful things didn’t work out with Francesca—because I never would have been as happy.
Mom picked at her food, the hostility still hovering around her.
“Anyway, I really like her.”
“What’s her name?”
“Rose.”
“Oh my god, Kyle.” She clutched her heart. “That’s such a beautiful name.”
“I know.” It suited her perfectly.
“So, do you like like her? Or do you like love her?”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom…”
“Please tell me. What kind of relationship is this?”
Since I never had serious relationships, I thought being in one would be enough. “It’s going somewhere.”
“You just made your mother very happy. I need grandchildren before I die.”
“You’ll get them, Mom. I promise.”
“Thank you, Kyle.”
I poured another glass of wine because I needed it to get through this evening. All this talk of marriage and babies was disconcerting.
“So, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Oh no.
“Charles and I have set a date.”
“Oh, that’s great.” This was a topic I could deal with.
“We’re getting married in two weeks.”
That was rushed. “You can get everything together in that timeframe?”
“It’s going to be small, maybe ten people there.”
That was something I could get on board with. “Where?”
“Cannes, France.”
An international wedding? “Oh…”
“It’s so beautiful this time of year. I think it’ll be perfect.”
Whatever she wanted, I would be there for her.
“I was hoping you would give me away.”
She didn’t even need to ask. “Of course, Mom.”
“Thank you, dear. You’ve been such a sweetheart through all of this. I know it can’t be easy for you.”
“Actually, it is easy. I want you to be happy.”
“Awe…”
I suddenly realized the date. “Wait, two weeks from now?”
“Yes. Why? Did you have plans?”
“Not exactly…I have court.”
“But that must be on a Monday, right?”
“We’re picking the jury the Friday before.”
“Oh…I guess we could move it but I don’t think we can.”
I could hand the case over to Mark but I refused to do that. With the flight being twelve hours I’d be cutting it short flying there and then straight back. If I gave a good enough reason I could reschedule the case. “I think I can work something out.”
“Dear, don’t worry about it. I know your work is important to you.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m not missing your wedding.”
She gave me an affectionate smile.
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Please bring Rose with you. There’s nothing that would make me happier than seeing you dance at my wedding—with someone special.”
Somehow, she made her wedding about me again. “I’ll ask.”
***
When I walked inside I spotted the cupcakes on the table. Each one was decorated with a different colored flower with beads of frosting around it. It looked like something you’d get at The Muffin Girl.
“Dessert is served.” Rose slid the cupcake onto a napkin and handed it over.
“Did you make these?” I asked in surprise.
“Yep. It took me all day but it was worth it.”
I took a bite, my eyes on her the entire time. “They’re good. I didn’t realize baking was a hobby of yours.”
“It’s not. But I needed a break from the design I was working on. Plus, you said you wanted something sweet.”
I was glad she didn’t take my comment the wrong way. “Thanks for making them. I might have to take some home.”
“You can take them all. Otherwise, I’ll just eat them.”
I finished the cupcake and tossed the wrapper in the garbage. “I have to say, that’s the best cupcake I’ve ever had.”
“Really?” she asked in excitement. “I made them from scratch and I wasn’t sure how they would turn out.”
“They turned out delicious.” I sat on the couch and watched her sit beside me.
“How was dinner with your mom?”
“Good. But she talks a lot.”
She laughed. “Don’t they all?”
“Well, she does especially.”
Rose smiled. “You tease her but I know you’re fond of her.”
“Very. She’s my mom. She raised me.”
“She raised you into a very fine, young man.” She wrapped her arm through mine.
I loved it when she touched me. “She’s getting married in two weeks.”
“That’s great,” she said. “Weddings are so much fun.”
“And she’s getting married in France.”
“Wow. Talk about fancy.”
“She said it’s going to be small, with just a few people.”
“Then why it get married in France?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s her wedding.”
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”
I hoped she would come with me. But the fact we’d have to travel
together and possibly stay in the same room together might deter her. We’d made a lot of progress but I doubt she was ready for that. “I’d really love it if you would come with me. But I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable.”
“You want me to come with you…?” Her mouth was slightly open in surprise.
“Of course.” There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side. “All the expenses are paid for, so don’t worry about that.”
“How long would we be gone for?”
“Probably the weekend.”
She stared at the TV, her thoughts working behind her eyes.
“You don’t have to answer me right now. We have some time.”
“Are you sure it’s good idea if I’m there? With your family?”
“My mom was the one who told me to invite you,” I said with a chuckle.
“Really? You told her about me?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend.” It was a bold thing to say, but I didn’t want to keep mislabeling us. We weren’t friends anymore. What we had was more intimate than that.
To my relief, she looked happy. A smile was on her lips, and that joy reached her eyes. She didn’t give me her answer, but I suspected her answer would probably be yes.
***
By the end of the night she’d fallen asleep. Her head rested on my shoulder and she was out for the night. Anytime we watched TV together she usually passed out before midnight.
I didn’t mind because she looked cute when she was asleep.
Like always, I picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. Her shoes were already gone so I didn’t have to worry about those. I tucked her into the bed and pulled the sheets over her, making sure she was comfortable before I walked back out into the living room.
Her couch was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture I’d ever slept on, but I’d tough it out. We usually spent the following day together when I spent the night, so it was an even trade.
I turned off the TV and grabbed the blanket hanging off the back of the couch. I was too tall to sleep comfortably, but the cushions were still better than the hardwood floor. When I adjusted myself I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep.
A moment later, the sound of small feet hit the floorboards. The sound became louder as it drew near.
I opened my eyes and turned to the hallway, and standing there was Rose. She’d changed out of her clothes into her pajamas. The bottoms were plaid and loose, and her top was a plain white t-shirt.
I didn’t know what she wanted so I just stared at her.
“Come to bed.”
Did I really hear that? Or did I just dream it?
“That couch is way too small for you.”
“I’m really okay.” I didn’t want an invitation out of pity.
She placed her hands together in front of her waist, most of her features covered in shadow. Only the lights from the city gave visibility. “But I want you to sleep with me.”
That was as direct as she was going to get. And it was exactly what I needed to hear.
I left the couch and slowly walked to her, finding her pajamas arousing. They covered every inch of skin but the fact she wore them to bed made them look sexy. All I’d ever seen her in was regular clothes.
She turned around and walked into the bedroom, all the lights still off.
I knew this was just an invitation to sleep—and to cuddle. But that was it. It was more than she ever gave me before so I was grateful. I didn’t want to wear jeans to bed but I didn’t dare take them off.
She got into bed and pulled the covers off. “You can take off your clothes if you want…”
I hesitated at the edge of the bed, unsure if I should do it or not. She wouldn’t have given me the option if she weren’t comfortable with it. I pulled off my shirt first, going for the less controversial piece of clothing. I tossed it on the ground at the bedside and watched her reaction.
Her eyes were wide and she stared at me without blinking. Her eyes were on my chest and she didn’t move, frozen in place. She eyed my chest and shoulders, and I was pretty sure she swallowed the lump in her throat. Instead of looking uncomfortable and flustered, she looked mesmerized.
Since she was okay with that, I removed my jeans and stood in my boxers. I wasn’t hard at the moment, which was a blessing because she was bound to notice it. And that might make her uncomfortable.
This time she looked away, as if she realized she was staring too much.
I wish she would stare more.
I pulled the covers back then slipped into bed beside her. The softness of the mattress immediately relaxed my tight back, and the smell of her washed over me immediately afterward. I lay on my back beside her, not making any kind of move toward her. If she wanted to touch me, she would go for it.
She turned on her side and faced me, her eyes no longer lidded with sleep. She stared at my chest and my stomach, her eyes stopping where the sheets covered my waist.
I wondered what she was thinking, if she wanted me to envelope her in my arms.
She slowly moved across the bed, adjusting the sheets so she could get through, and then she snuggled into my side. Her arm wrapped around my waist and her face was buried in my neck.
Feeling her touch my bare skin gave me a serious rush. The most skin contact we had was our hands. But now her naked palm was on my chest, feeling the slab of muscle. I felt my body increase a few degrees from the contact.
Feeling brave, I snaked my arm underneath her and wrapped it around her waist. She didn’t object to the touch. In fact, it seemed like she loved it. She was lighter than a feather so I shifted her directly on top of me, wanting to lay across me all night long. I did my best not to think of sexual things, or the mere fact I was alone in a bed with her. In this position, there was no way she would miss my hard-on.
One hand rested on the small of her back while the other dug into her hair. She was the perfect size and weight to rest on top of me. It felt like a soft pillow keeping me warm.
When women spent the night, sometimes there was cuddling. But for the most part there wasn’t. She stuck to her side of the bed and I stuck to mine. After the sex was finished, we were both hot and sweaty anyway.
But now all I wanted to do was cuddle with Rose.
I’d never gone to bed with a woman without actually sleeping with her. And if I did, we at least fooled around. But tonight was going to be rated G. And I was perfectly fine with that.
“I feel like I’m laying on the sidewalk…”
My hand gently caressed her back. “Sorry?”
“Because you’re hard like cement.”
“Oh…” I chuckled. “Thanks, I think.”
“I’ve never been so comfortable in my life.” Her hand migrated to my shoulder gently, where she rubbed the area lovingly.
I pulled the strands of hair off her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead, the only place I’d been allowed. It wasn’t her lips, that sweet area I longed for, but it was still a part of her.
And I was grateful.
There was a possibility I was taking on something I couldn’t handle. Rose never talked about what happened to her on that terrible night, so I had no way of understanding the depth of her pain. But if she was sleeping in the same bed with me that very moment, it was safe to say we made a lot of progress. “I’m comfortable too. You’re like a stuffed animal—but better.”
“I hope I’m not old and smelly…”
“A little,” I said with a chuckle. “But I like it.”
“I was so tired a moment ago and now I’m restless.”
What did that mean? Was I getting my hopes up for no reason? “Want me to sing to you?”
“You can sing?” she asked in surprise.
“I’m all right. Not bad, but not Whitney Houston either.”
“I’d love to hear you sing.”
I kept my voice low, whispering under my breath. I sang an old lullaby my mom used to sing to my sister and I. It had
short verses and a simple chorus. It was the first thing that came to mind.
Instead of falling asleep, her breathing had increased. Her fingers dug into me in excitement.
I closed my eyes and waited for her to say something.
“Could you sing it again…?”
“You want me to?”
“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Yes, I want you to sing it again.”
“Whatever my sweetheart wants.”
***
I got to the courtroom and took a seat, a pitcher of water placed in front of me along with a single glass. My client, Audrey, wasn’t schedule to make an appearance. Her presence wasn’t necessary today, and I wasn’t going to make her stand in this room for a second longer than she had to.
The defense walked inside, two of the best lawyers in Manhattan. They were from Howard and Stern, a respectable firm just a few blocks from mine. When it came down to it, this case was all business. But I was irritated the defendant could afford such expensive legal help. That’s probably how he got off the first time.
But he wouldn’t get off the second time.
Dressed in an orange jumpsuit with his hands in cuffs, Peter was escorted to the table on the opposite side of the aisle. He had thick black hair, and his beard was coming in from not shaving. I’d been calm every single day leading up to the trial, but now that I had to look at him in real life I was anything but calm.
I wanted to beat him to death with my chair.
This man took something that didn’t belong to him, and he hurt the woman I cared most about. He was a pathetic excuse for a human being, and if I could kill him and get away with it I would.
I’m not kidding.
I forced my gaze straight ahead because I couldn’t bare the sight any longer. My hands were shaking and my head was becoming congested with rage. Despite my passion for the law I didn’t respect the justice system.
It failed Rose.
The proceeding began and I made my case. “I’d like to reschedule the trial to a later date.”
The judge seemed bored, like all the others I’ve dealt with. “Your reason?”
“My mother is getting married overseas. I only need to postpone the trial for a few days.”
He considered my request silently, grinding his teeth together as he deliberated.
I tried not to stare at Peter and imagine breaking his skull.
