“Do you realize I have a big function this weekend?” she snapped.
“No offense, princess, but I think they can do it without you.”
They fought for another twenty minutes while Avery threw random clothes into a suitcase. Looking for an excuse not to go, Avery called her dad about the event-filled weekend at the country club. To her dismay, he insisted she go.
“Maybe some time away will be good for you.”
Sunlight disturbed Nicole’s slumber and she rolled over with a tired groan.
“Morning, sunshine.” Ryan’s playful tone pulled her from groggy to awake and alert in an instant. He lay on his side of the bed, propped up on one shoulder, chomping his gum in his typical obnoxious fashion.
I’m dreaming.
She could feel his warmth as he reached out and stroked her hair. He shot her a toothy smile.
“Hey babe.”
“Ryan?” She reached out for him and touched his morning whiskers. He felt so real. She could even smell the grape Big League Chew he’d insisted on keeping in the bedside table drawer.
“Where’s Ike?” Casual curiosity brimmed in his baby blue eyes.
“Still asleep. Why are you here?” She sat up in the bed and marveled at him in the morning sun. He appeared just like he had the last morning she’d seen him: disheveled hair, wearing that stupid Hawkeye t-shirt that was faded and raggedy. She’d told him it made him look homeless. He’d always worn it on weekends and had refused to throw it out. She still had the shirt in a plastic bag in her bottom drawer, and it somehow still held his scent.
“He’s all wrong for you, Nicole. You know that, right?” His expressive eyes seemed to look off thoughtfully, over her shoulder. He shook his head, frowning … disappointed.
“Who?” She reached out for him again, feeling tightness in her chest and narrowing in her throat. She couldn’t feel him anymore, though her hands were on his face. She felt love radiating from him, but she just couldn’t reach him.
Nicole woke herself from the dream as she’d done from so many other dreams before. Her shrink called it lucid dreaming, being able to exert control of her dreams. This dream had been so dramatically different from the others. Her room was pitch black, and she was alone with the sound of the ticking wall clock. She crept to Ike’s door and covered him with the blanket he’d kicked off. She descended the stairs and folded the clothes in the dryer. She checked her phone to see if Avery had replied to her texts. Nothing.
The mood of the holiday hadn’t improved with Shilah and Avery’s exit, so Nic had begged off early. Her concern for Avery’s emotional state made it impossible for her to eat a thing at the holiday table and now her stomach growled. She crept downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself a small glass of milk, wondering if she was getting an ulcer. Shilah had said he was taking Avery to see some “real family dysfunction.” His plans for Avery would take them out of pocket for a few days, but Jo and Mitch had stepped in and volunteered to come pick Ike up and keep him overnight.
Tonight. Friday night.
Colin.
Shit.
She glanced at the clock and saw it was 2:00 A.M. Shuffling back upstairs, she paused in her bedroom door. Unable to fight the urge she’d had since waking, she crossed to the dresser and pulled out Ryan’s Iowa shirt. The gray material had holes the size of silver dollars, and she pulled the shirt to her face and breathed in the faint remnants of his smell. Pain rocked her as the scent of his soap and musky flesh filled her nostrils. She buried her face in it and sobbed.
Hours later, she woke up on the floor with the morning sun shining in her eyes. Ike stood over her. He sucked his thumb, his chubby face confused. His expression, so like Ryan’s, broke her heart and brought fresh tears to her eyes.
“Momma fall down?”
“I’m okay, Ike.”
He pointed at the decal on the shirt she still clutched to her chest.
“Yellow?” The word was barely intelligible from around his thumb.
“That’s right, baby.”
Two hours later at Onyx, she paced and fiddled with her ponytail. Sipping her second large coffee, she peered out of the giant windows that revealed a spectacular view of the lonely golf course. Late November, temperatures and the lack of sunshine had the grass looking pretty shabby, and the gray clouds battled with the sun for dominance. Nicole scanned the panoramic view and bolstered herself for the night ahead.
The argument with Colin the day before had her feeling sheepish. When he’d scoffed at her reaction, he’d had every right to be pissed. She’d yo-yoed since the night they’d met, and she needed to break the ice.
She’d told him that they would spend the night together and that her lack of exuberance was just nerves. His tension seemed to melt at her explanation. He insisted that he didn’t want to twist her arm and that she still made him feel insecure. They’d kissed and made up, when he got a call from his brother about some problem at the bar. Whatever was going on, Colin had seemed frustrated and left in a hurry.
Then Aaron had walked in like a hot Santa with her Christmas trees. Life was never simple.
She was glad he’d be there to help and her pleasure at his olive branch made it seem like her life in Jefferson Point could fall into place: Colin in her bed and Aaron as her friend. Destiny. She resolved to be at peace with her situation.
She heard the door open at the far end of the restaurant and watched Aaron saunter in, carrying a twelve-pack and a toolbox.
“I brought the beer.” His mischievous eyes twinkled as he sat his toolbox down.
“It’s ten in the morning, lush.” Her hand was on her hip and head tilted to one side.
“But we have to drive home sometime. I say start now and sober up.” He opened a beer and handed it to her. She took it and put it to her lips.
“Now I know how you survive living here. This town must have a really active chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous.”
“Listen here, sweet cheeks. The good people of Jefferson Point are not a bunch of quitters.” She snort-laughed and beer came out of her nose. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her as if he’d anticipated this.
“You carry a handkerchief. Got a pocket watch in there too, Mr. Darcy?” Her remarks came out nasal and muffled from behind the handkerchief.
“You ungrateful little pain in the ass. Next time, I’ll leave you hanging.” He mocked disdain as he popped opened his own beer and chugged a third of it.
“Slow down there, stud. I need you functional.”
They argued for another ten minutes about what radio station to listen to. Nicole plugged in her iPod, selecting her most Aaron-unfriendly playlist. As The Violent Femmes blared from the speakers, he rolled his eyes with a longsuffering sigh and went to find the ladder. For the first hour and a half, they did nothing but hang greenery and drink beer. Aaron filled Nicole in on who was doing what, a Jefferson Point version of “Where Are They Now.” Nicole noticed the lack of food catching up to her and paused to call for pizza.
They sat at the bar with a pizza box between them, and Aaron asked how Ike was doing. Nicole cast her memory back to her stellar Ike wakeup call that morning and frowned.
“Better than I deserve. He’s an amazing kid.”
“Why don’t you try to cut yourself a little slack, Nic?” Aaron scoffed. She brushed off the question as rhetorical.
“He’s got Ryan’s brains. He’s a total sponge.” She proceeded to tell him how Ike already recognized all of his letters, numbers, and shapes.
“For some reason he just doesn’t get colors, though. Only yellow. Maybe he’s colorblind.”
“Or maybe his mom’s an Interior Designer. I don’t know the difference between Aubergine and Chartreuse either.” Aaron slaughtered the pronunciation of Aubergine, and she smiled. Aaron frowned and looked away, taking another drink. Nicole stopped laughing.
“I’m boring the hell out of you, aren’t I?” She rested her elbow on the bar. Hanging out w
ith him felt almost like old times.
“No. I was just thinking I wish I’d been around when he was a baby.” Neither of them spoke. The air around them seemed heavy; Nicole jumped up.
“I have pictures.” She headed to the coatroom for her purse. Her phone in hand, she pulled up an album of Ike favorites, and presented it to him. He flipped through the pictures, adlibbing his interpretation of what Ike’s inner monologue might have been. His color commentary on each picture had them both laughing in no time. His expression sobered. She leaned next to him so she could see which one he was looking at. It was a picture of Ryan holding Ike as a newborn, grinning from ear to ear. He was wearing that God forsaken, moth eaten Hawkeye shirt. Nicole grinned in spite of herself and shifted her eyes to Aaron, realizing she was still shoulder-to-shoulder with him. He was no longer looking at her phone, but scanning her face. Hyperaware of his physical nearness, she claimed her phone and stuck it in her back pocket. He said nothing, but his eyes held hers. Nicole tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I need another beer,” she muttered, and moved away to get one.
They had all the greenery in place an hour and another beer later. One extra strand of greenery remained and as they swept up needles and returned the furniture to its previous position, Nicole kept staring at the large wooden chandelier over the dining area. It hung suspended from the vaulted ceiling two and a half stories above the restaurant floor.
“Hey. I have an idea.” She retrieved the ladder and placed it so she could access the chandelier.
“Have you lost your damn mind? Are you going to stand on top of the thing? No way.” His head tilted just slightly to the side, Nicole knew he would need to be persuaded.
“Come on. It’ll complete the look.”
“I don’t give a damn. It’s not safe.” He crossed his arms.
“You’re right. What if I go to the upper banquet room and string it over the balcony?”
“With or without a net? Are those seriously the two choices you’re giving me?”
“Aaron, they have to change the light bulbs somehow.”
“True. Most likely from the upper level. And they’re probably sober at the time.”
“Let’s go up and take a look.”
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
They left the dining room floor and ascended the stairs. Nicole gripped the railing, realizing she felt the alcohol a tad more than she was letting on. She forced herself onward; the chandelier needed her touch or the restaurant would look like a perfectly wrapped present without a bow.
They crossed the long banquet room and came to the railing that overlooked the dining room floor of Onyx. The ceiling sprawled far above their heads, tapering to a point. The entire A-frame held sixteen windows, six of which were now at their eye level. Nicole observed that the sky had darkened to a charcoal color, and the clouds, no longer able to bear the heavy weight of the droplets, released a torrential rain. Five feet out from the railing, the behemoth chandelier waited, tempting her. Scanning the room, she saw no lamp changers.
“Nothing here,” Aaron confirmed. Nicole was mystified, and leaned out over the rail for a better look at the base of the chandelier for a hoist or lift system. She was so distracted, craning her neck to get a better look in the dim room that she leaned out too far and nearly toppled over the side. Fear gripped her as she struggled to regain her footing. She let out a screech and felt an arm around her waist and a hand pull her back by the shirt. Aaron’s arms encased her, and she clung to him, fighting to steady her breath.
“Dammit, Nicki. You scared the hell out of me.” His chest rumbled against her cheek as he spoke, and she could hear the hammering of his heart. She was vaguely aware that her fingers were tangled in his shirt, but she had no intention of releasing him. He held fast to her, and Nicole’s knees gave way and she collapsed against him completely. The lack of sleep, the beer, and the close call culminated in exhaustion. He lowered her into a nearby chair, kneeling beside her. Only then did she feel like she could release him.
Aaron took her head in his hands, his eyes fierce. He looked pale and he heaved a labored breath. Thunder cracked close by, reverberating off the windows and the lights went out. She could still see him in the dim light through the wall of windows to her left. Aaron’s expression scolded her, and when she opened her mouth to apologize for freaking him out, he stifled her speech with a kiss.
She tried to pull away, to read his face, to understand the shift in his mindset. His hand was on the back of her neck, refusing to allow her retreat. His mouth was unrelenting as he pulled her entire chair closer to him. They were eye to eye, him on his knees before her and her in the chair. He pushed her back and maneuvered himself between her legs, pulling her thigh around him. She wrapped her legs around him on reflex, her body on board with the agenda before her mind. Wet kisses traveled down her jaw to her neck, and at that point Nicole had forgotten her protests and questions. She relaxed in his arms as his hands traveled up her shirt. Silently she cursed him for toying with her mind, but she was helpless to resist the sensation of his calloused fingers through the thin material of her bra.
From somewhere below came a loud crash and someone chuckled. There was a loud exchange of voices, and Aaron and Nicole both pulled back from each other.
“You break it, you buy it!” Nicole recognized the voice of Louise, the bar manager. Her eyes widened, and she looked at Aaron who sat back on his heels. Running his hand through his hair, he stared at the ground as if he were confused or lost. Nicole stood up and pulled down her shirt as if to conceal any evidence of what had just taken place. Aaron was on his feet as well, refusing to make eye contact. Presuming he’d flip-flopped yet again, she shook her head and made for the stairs, unable to suffer through another awkward exchange with him. As she entered the stairwell, the lights flickered and came back on.
Downstairs, Louise stood watching two men roll in dollies piled high with champagne and wine crates and cases of beer. She did a double take when she saw Nicole.
She pushed her glasses up looking from Nicole to Aaron. “Where’d you two come from?”
“Do you know how to get to the chandelier, Louise?” Nicole didn’t appreciate the amused expression the bar manager wore.
“Sure do.” She walked past the fireplace, along the wall on the far side of the room, and turned a knob. The chandelier descended slowly, and Aaron graced Louise with a crooked smile.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said. Had he been wearing a hat, Nicole was sure he would have tipped it. Louise shot him a flirtatious smile and shook her head at Nicole, as if in sympathy. Nicole hurried away to the last greenery strand, ready to end the project and flee.
“It’s getting ugly out there. The roads are slicker than snot,” Louise said from behind her.
“Icy already?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah. One of the delivery guys took a tumble on the way in the door.”
“About done?” Aaron asked from right behind her. Forcing herself not to look up from her task, she fastened the tail of the strand in place.
“Finished.” She crossed to the wall knob and returned the chandelier to its rightful place. Seeing her vision realized, she sighed. “Perfection.”
Feeling Aaron’s eyes on her, she casually turned to him.
“Thanks for all your help.”
“Anytime.” He nearly smiled as he shoved his hands in his jean pockets and watched her expectantly.
“You’d better get going or you’re going to be late for your date, Nicole,” Louise called from the bar.
“Date?” The way he annunciated the “t” made Nicole snap her head in his direction. Aaron frowned and his expression seemed to silently interrogate her. Nicole blinked at him in surprise. He’d asked for this friendship, not her. She inhaled, not sure what would come out when she spoke.
“I’d better go salt the parking lots at the farm.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, put it on, and paused
. Nicole hated the indecision and frustration she saw on his face, so she busied herself placing a runner on the nearest table. He headed out the door into the ice storm. Nicole flopped down in the nearest chair, her head in her hands. As the storm raged on outside, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind.
“He’s all wrong for you, Nicole. You know that, right?”
Not now, Ryan.
Avery watched the foreign desert terrain out the window of the crappy rental car. Arizona had the same foreign beauty to her that Shilah did, but frustration blocked her ability to enjoy the experience.
Somehow Shilah had managed to secure them seats on a flight and after they suffered through security, the plane was delayed for weather. Hours later, they arrived in Flagstaff. At the car rental counter, Shilah selected a ghastly lime green Prius, and after multiple attempts to make a reservation, they spent a tense night at a cheap airport hotel.
“Stop pouting, Avery. It’s unflattering.” His condescending tone made her grit her teeth.
“I’m not pouting. I’m pissed.” She tossed her bangs out of her eyes.
“Still?”
“Shall I recap the past twenty-four hours for you?”
“No. I’ve heard you loud and clear. Over, and over, and over again. Step out of your comfort zone for a couple of days!”
“What the hell are you talking about my ‘comfort zone’? I probably have bed bugs now. I had to take a cold shower 'cause there was no hot water. I’d say we crossed the border of my ‘comfort zone’ a few miles back.”
He laughed, and it incensed her. They turned into the driveway of a lovely Spanish-style cottage of white stucco with a terra cotta roof. The front yard was peppered with cacti and housed an intricate rock garden.
Shilah took his hands off the steering wheel and his dark eyes pleaded with Avery.
“This is my mom’s place. Please try to behave.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the front door opened, a thin woman with hazel eyes threw her arms around Shilah.
Kiss Kiss Page 217
