Knowing You

by Maureen Child

  But now that Stevie’s body had stopped buzzing, her brain was on red alert. She’d damn near blurted out the truth while he was still inside her, and wouldn’t that have been perfect? She could have had an up close and personal shot of his features going slack with shock.

  No one had ever said anything about love.

  And now that it was here, she didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

  From behind the closed door of the bathroom she heard the shower come on, and smiled to herself at the thought of Paul, all wet and soapy and naked and—she slapped herself on the forehead with the heel of her hand. For God’s sake, think about something else.

  An idea presented itself, and desperate, she went with it. Pushing herself up out of the rumpled bed, she walked naked across the floor, grabbed Paul’s robe from a nearby chair, and pulled it on. Scooping her hair out from under the collar, she walked to the bathroom door.

  “Paul?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Okay if I use your computer to e-mail Debbie?”

  “Sure, go ahead. Be out in a minute.”

  “Take your time,” she said, then added in a whisper, “A year or two wouldn’t be out of line.” But, she thought as she headed for the staircase, a couple of years wouldn’t matter anyway. She had the distinct feeling that she could go thirty years without seeing him and then the moment she did, she’d be flat on her back, yelling, Take me, sailor!

  Stevie went downstairs and straight to Paul’s desk. Naturally, everything was in perfect order. His closed laptop sat square in the center of the desktop. A system of cubbyholes, all neatly closed of course, housed stamps and pens and envelopes. She knew his desk drawers were just as painfully neat, and she had to wonder—how could he be such a picture-perfect computer geek and a love god at the same time?

  “Just one of Fate’s little jokes,” she told herself. “Like falling in love with your friend.” Real funny.

  Shaking her head, she lifted the lid of the computer and waited while the standby light flickered to life. In a few seconds, the screen lit up, went black, and then came on again—a document already open.

  * * *

  Paul turned away from the rush of water and reached for the shampoo. God, he loved knowing Stevie would be waiting for him when he emerged from the shower. Loved knowing she was in his house. Hell, had been in his bed. A part of him hoped that maybe this was the real start of what lay between them. Maybe she’d be able to see that they could build a life together. If he could just get past her defenses. Get past her need to save his family and the whole damn world. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest and he wondered if he was being an idiot. Everything with her sister had turned out well. Crisis over. Debbie safe. Stevie had stopped ranting and ragging on herself.

  But even as he thought about letting it all go, he knew he had to say something. On that long drive to San Francisco, when her fear and anxiety had pumped words from her mouth in a flood of self-recrimination, he’d mostly kept quiet. Thinking she needed to talk. To say everything that was stoppered up inside her. But now that it was all over, he couldn’t just pretend he hadn’t heard her. Couldn’t gloss over the things she’d said. Like how all of this was her fault. And she should have been waiting at home just to receive a phone call that might never come. She had to let go of this stuff.

  He just didn’t know where the hell to sta— “Oh, shit!”

  Stevie was down there. In his office. On his computer.

  “Hell. Shit. Damn!” Shampoo dribbling down his face and neck, he made a dive for the bottom half of his sweats and raced for the stairs.

  “Don’t open it. Do … not … open it—”

  * * *

  Stevie blinked and read the words on the screen again. What was left of the deliciously languorous sensation in her body dissolved like sugar dropped into boiling water. But she wasn’t hot. She was suddenly, completely, bone-deep cold.

  “Stevie, no!” Paul’s voice came from upstairs, shouting, though it sounded more like a frantic whisper in a hurricane to her. Must be all of the blood pounding in her ears.

  Breathing heavily, her hands clenched around the edge of the desk, Stevie looked at Paul’s neatly done Pro and Con list and read it slowly, for the third time.

  “‘The Pros and Cons of Loving Stevie.’”

  “Con. Number one. ‘Stubborn.’ Since when is stubborn a bad thing?” Her blood pressure rose.

  “Two. ‘Always trying to save everyone and everything.’” Her eyeballs started to throb.

  “Thr—”

  As if from a great distance, she heard him running, his footsteps pounding down the stairs. She stood up and turned to face the door and glare at him. He skidded, wet and naked, to a stop just a few feet from her.

  “Jesus, Stevie. You didn’t see—” The computer. Open. Paul. Dead man. He’d forgotten all about the damn thing the last few days. Which said a lot for just how wrapped up in Stevie he’d become.

  “You son of a bitch.”

  “You did.” Damn it. Paul reached up and wiped dripping shampoo out of his eyes with the leg of the sweatpants clutched in his fist.

  “Three,” she reiterated, her voice hard. “‘She might still be in love with Nick’? Oh my God.”

  “Stevie—”

  “You can’t possibly believe that. Not when we—I—you.”

  “You were never supposed to see that.”

  “Oh well,” she said, grinding the words out through clenched teeth. “That changes everything, doesn’t it?”

  Shampoo ran down into his eyes and he swept it away. Stevie hoped he’d been blinded.

  “You’ve got to listen to me.”

  “No, I don’t. I can’t believe you did this,” she snapped, fury dancing in her eyes and jittering out around her in a wild aura of doom.

  “I can explain—”

  “No thanks!” she shouted, and reached for the brass lamp at the corner of his desk. Snatching it up, she threw it at him.

  She’d always had a good arm. Paul ducked as it sailed past, then winced as it clattered against the wall behind him. Better the wall than him, though.

  “Just calm down for a second—”

  She glared at him.

  “—and let me explain.”

  “There is absolutely no explanation that is going to make this sound any better.”

  “Just listen for a minute and—”

  “You’re unbelievable.” She tugged the belt of his robe tighter and actually managed to look dignified in navy blue terrycloth. “You made a list of the reasons why you shouldn’t have anything to do with me?”

  Sounded even worse when she said it. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, though.

  “I don’t know whether to be angry that you even thought of me like one of your defense department reports, or hurt that you needed to do that and were still making love to me.” She slapped both hands to her forehead as if she could push this new knowledge right out of her brain.

  “Damn it, this isn’t a conversation I want to have naked,” he muttered, and jerked the sweatpants on over his damp skin.

  “This isn’t a conversation I want to have at all,” she said, and stalked past him.

  But he grabbed her arm and dragged her to a stop. Looking down into her stormy blue eyes, Paul could hardly believe that just a few minutes ago they’d been hazy with spent passion. Now she looked as though she wouldn’t have a bit of trouble killing him.

  “Listen to me, Stevie—”

  “Why should I?” she cut him off, and tugged free of his grip. “I already read the list. What was number four again? Oh, yes. ‘Cranky before her period.’ Jesus, Paul! Trust me, you’ve said enough.”

  “I never meant for you to see that.” He threw his hands wide, then slapped soap out of his eyes again. “I forgot all about the damn thing. I did it when I was—”

  “Being a jerk?”

  “Thanks.” He smirked at her. “Okay, yeah. Maybe I was a jerk for making the li
st. But that’s who I am. I write things down. I think logically. Rationally.”

  “Right. And I’m the idiot who gets written about like a statistical report. Now that’s sensitive, Paul. Gee, I’m all warm and fuzzy here. Can’t you tell?” She shook her head and started for the front door.

  He stopped her after a few steps. Grabbing her upper arm, he pulled her around to face him. When she tried to fight free of his grip this time, he just held on tighter.

  “Damn it, Stevie, you’ve been making me nuts for years.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Well,” she said, cocking her head to give him a small unamused smile, “lists come pretty easy to you. Why don’t you write down what you really meant and then I can read that, when I have time?”

  “You think this is easy?” he demanded. “You think being around you and pretending nothing is happening is easy?”

  “It hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park for me, either, you know.” Stevie planted both hands on his chest and shoved. Like trying to shove a mountain. He just stood there, glowering at her. “But I didn’t make up lists on why to stay away from you.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Sure seemed that way to me. What do you call it?” She held up one hand to keep him quiet. “No. Never mind. I don’t even want to know. God knows what you’re thinking that you didn’t write down. Besides, this isn’t just about us, anyway. It’s not even all about that stupid list. I mean, sex is all fine and dandy—”

  “Fine and dandy?”

  She ignored him. The list still stung, but there was more at stake here than a list that hit every last one of her insecurities. “We have to think about how this affects everyone else. There are more than just the two of us involved here, you know. What about Mama? What about Nick? And Carla and—hell. Everybody?”

  He stared at her blankly. How had they gone from a spreadsheet to his family?

  Then he got a bead on what she’d just said. “How about Nick?” he asked dangerously. “How … about … Nick?”

  “Yes. Your brother. Your twin. That Nick.”

  “Why are we giving a damn about Nick right now?”

  “We’re giving a damn because he’s family. That’s why. Because he’s … family and—you’re the one who brought him up by putting his name on that list. Never mind.” She shook her head, refusing to think about that again. “I’m just saying that we have to think about the family.”

  “And how about yours? How about little sister Debbie?”

  “Her, too.”

  “Doesn’t it get old, Stevie?”

  “What?”

  “Saving the whole goddamned world?” So much for keeping quiet. Frustration tugged at him, but he scraped one hand across his face and blurted, “Christ, Stevie, do you have to rescue the whole damn universe?”

  “What?”

  Stunned surprise shadowed her eyes, and he told himself to shut up and let her walk away. But he couldn’t stop. Hell, he didn’t want to stop. This had been coming for a long time. Might as well get it said. Maybe once it was out in the open …

  “You heard me.” He threw his hands wide, then let them fall to slap against his thighs. “Jesus. All you’ve done is take the ‘blame’ for everybody’s troubles and problems.”

  “That’s because some of them were my fault.”

  “How is that possible?” he demanded, staring into her blue eyes and watching as anger slowly overcame the misery he’d seen there before. “Just how do you get to be the damned center of the universe? How is everything that ever goes wrong anywhere your fault? Your problem to solve? You should have been home to answer a phone you didn’t know was going to ring? You shouldn’t have rushed into Debbie’s life and thrown it into turmoil?”

  She didn’t like having her own words thrown back at her and actually winced as he said them. “I didn’t say that, exactly.”

  “You don’t have to say it,” he said, snorting a choked-off laugh. “You live it.”

  “Wow,” she countered, folding her arms across her chest like a shield. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Amazing Paul, mind reader extraordinaire.”

  “Cute,” he snapped. “But I don’t see you denying it.”

  “Of course I deny trying to save the world. It’s … dumb.”

  “That’s what I’ve always thought.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Think about it, Stevie,” he said, leaning toward her as he grabbed her shoulders in a tight grip. “You’ve spent most of your life waiting around for Joanna to love you the way you want her to.”

  “Shut up,” she said, but the words came out soft, squeezed past a sudden cold, hard knot in her throat.

  “And Nick,” he went on, his brown eyes flashing in the dim lamplight. “You loved him despite how he acted. You kept trying to save him from himself so he’d see you and love you the way you wanted him to.”

  “I loved him, once.”

  Paul winced as if she’d landed a hard blow to his ribs. Even the past tense of the word love didn’t take the sting out of it completely. “I know. But he didn’t love you, not the way you deserved to be loved, and you never saw it.”

  She gave him a long, slow look up and down, then said softly, “There’s a lot of things I never really saw until just now.”

  He smiled tightly. “That’s real good, how your eyes go all icy and your voice gets as snotty as Joanna on one of her best days.”

  Stevie sucked in a breath. “Good shot. If you’re keeping score, that was a direct hit.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  “Well, you’re doing a hell of a job.”

  He hadn’t meant to hurt her. But he was. He could tell by the look in her eyes, and it was killing him. Yet he knew that stupid list had pushed to the surface what he’d been trying to hide. And he was damn tired of walking on eggshells when it came to what he was feeling about this woman. They were finally standing on the edge of a cliff. It was either get across it or jump in the hole and forget about living.

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but Stevie refused to give in to them. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t let him know that he was hurting her. That he was getting to her more deeply than anyone ever had before.

  He moved his hands, cupping her face between his palms, staring down into her eyes, forcing her to meet his gaze. To feel what he was feeling. To know what it was costing him to say these things.

  “Even the animals, Stevie. The cats and dogs you bring home. You’re saving them, too. Now you have a new cause. Debbie. Not that your sister isn’t a worthy cause, but damn it—”

  She pulled away from him, eyes blazing.

  He raked his fingers through his wet, soapy hair. “You save everyone but yourself.”

  One tear defied her best efforts and rolled along her cheek. She rubbed it away with the back of her hand. Then she inhaled sharply and exhaled just as fast. “Why are you talking to me like this?”

  “Because I’m tired of not being seen, Stevie. You know why you never noticed me in all these years?” He shook his head slowly. “Because I didn’t need saving. You didn’t have to rush in and rescue me, so you couldn’t see me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Scraping one hand across the back of his neck, he looked like he wanted to strangle something. “You keep saving the world, hoping it’ll change to the way you want it. Well, instead of trying to save the damn world, why don’t you try to save yourself?”

  “And your way’s better?” she asked, when she could think again. When the chill of his words had eased enough that her brain was able to work again.

  “My way?”

  “The good son,” she said, daring him to disagree. “The responsible one. The one who never disappoints. Always in Nick’s shadow. Content to stay there, then bitch because he doesn’t get noticed.”

  “Score one for you,” he said softly.

/>   Stevie’s heart ached. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. Agony pooled in the pit of her stomach and sent long, reaching fingers out to every corner of her body. Her love for him had ripped apart a friendship she’d always held sacred.

  Hurting him was the last thing she would ever want to do. Yet here she was, going for his soft spots, just like he’d done to her. Because they knew each other so damn well, they knew where the skin was the thinnest, the nerves closest to the surface.

  But she wouldn’t do it anymore.

  “I’m not interested in playing this game—or any game with you, Paul.” She wiped at her streaming eyes with impatient hands, then a harsh, throat-scraping laugh erupted from her. Turning around sharply, Stevie made a break for the front door. “I’m outta here.”

  “You’re leaving? You lose an argument and leave? Just like that?”

  “I didn’t lose, Paul,” she said, tears clogging her throat. “We did.” She grabbed his car keys off the table in the foyer, yanked the front door open, ran outside, and crashed into Nick’s chest.

  “Hey…” He held her back and away from him, his smile slipping into a worried frown. “What’s…?”

  “Oh, drop dead,” Stevie muttered, and shot past him, taking the steps at a run, then racing across the yard to Paul’s car.

  “Stevie!” Paul was just a few steps behind her. He couldn’t let it end like this. Damn it, they hadn’t settled anything.

  And he couldn’t … wouldn’t let it end this way. He’d halfway hoped that she could love him as much as he loved her. Now he might never know—just because of that Goddamn list.

  No. To have it all trashed at his feet was something he refused to accept. Refused to give up on. If that meant taking on Nick and Mama and the whole Candellano bunch, then so be it. And he wasn’t going to let her leave, half-naked and in his car, for God’s sake.

  Nick grabbed at him. “What’d you do to St—”

  Without even slowing his pace, Paul slammed his fist into Nick’s jaw, then kept going. Barefoot, he ran out into the yard, calling her name like a maniac, in time to see Stevie steering his car down the drive, spinning gravel into a wild fantail behind her.