One Year Home

by Marie Force

  And why do I care? That’s over, too. I made sure of it.

  Standing in the midst of thousands of people, staring up at the handsome face of the first man I ever loved, I’ve never felt more alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  JOHN

  This will go down as one of the best nights of my life, and I certainly didn’t expect to think that when we left the hotel earlier. The reception I received from Jimmy Fallon, the Tonight Show staff and the audience has bolstered my confidence as the tour I’ve dreaded kicks off. Maybe it won’t be total hell.

  Jimmy and his management team have taken us up to the Rainbow Room for dinner and drinks after the taping. I’m sitting next to Jules, but we’re surrounded by people, so I can’t ask her how she thinks it went or what I should do differently next time. Hopefully, she’ll be up for a debrief when we get back to the hotel to make sure I’m ready for the Today show in the morning.

  Miles and his girlfriend, Skylar, join us. I learn that he is Ava’s boss, and she was Ava’s roommate when she first moved to New York. Sky doesn’t have much to say to me, so I assume Ava gave her an earful about all the many ways I failed her. I deserve any disdain that Ava’s friends direct my way. I was grossly unfair to her, even if I had no choice in the matter.

  I like Miles, though. He seems like a good guy, and Jules obviously knows them both quite well. She whispers to me that he had dark hair before the ship was attacked. His hair is now almost completely gray, even though he can’t be more than forty-five, if that. In some strange way, it helps to meet other people whose lives were changed forever on that fateful day. It makes me feel less alone with my own pain.

  People keep coming over to our table, wanting to talk to me. One of the assistant producers is great about thanking them for their interest but asking them to give me privacy and space.

  If she wasn’t handling it, Jules would. I have no doubt about that. With her by my side and the others acting as a buffer, I relax somewhat as the adrenaline from the taping starts to wane, leaving me tired but not so tired that I want to leave. Under the table, I nudge Jules. “You okay?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re quiet.”

  “Just taking it all in. I don’t get to have dinner and drinks with Jimmy Fallon every day.”

  “I figured this was all in a day’s work for a high-powered publicist like you.”

  “Ha! I wish. I’ve never done anything like this, which I probably shouldn’t tell you. You might fire me and get someone more experienced.”

  “Never. You’re just what I need, Poppy.”

  She gives me a small, personal smile that just does it for me.

  “You think it went okay? With Fallon?”

  “You were amazing. The promos for tonight’s show must’ve gone live, because my phone is on fire with producers wanting to add their shows to your tour.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you? Is it too much?”

  “No, of course not. It’s fine. I’m not adding to the tour, though. You’re doing enough as it is.”

  “Whatever you say. You’re the boss.” I stretch my arm out behind her, and she startles when my sleeve brushes against her neck. “Sorry.”

  “I, um, I should go back to the hotel and deal with these inquiries.”

  Is it that, or does she want to get away from me? I suspect it's the latter. “Not yet. We’ll go soon.”

  She receives a text that makes her go rigid.

  I know I shouldn’t read her private texts, but I do it anyway and see the note from Rob that says Eric is staying at their place.

  Jules types a quick reply. For how long?

  Not sure.

  This is not good.

  Not good at all.

  Eric left Ava? No way. They just got married. What the hell could’ve come between them that fast? I want to ask Jules, but I’m not supposed to know what’s happening, so I don’t ask. I tell myself it’s none of my business. Ava made her choice, and regardless of what happens between the two of them, there’s no going back for the two of us.

  I lean in closer to Jules. “I need to talk to you tonight.”

  She looks at me. “About what?”

  “I’ll tell you when we get back to the hotel. Just save me a few minutes, if you would.” I’m a manipulative bastard, because I know she’ll do it. I’m her client, after all. But it’s not business on my mind. I just want to spend more time with her. I want to talk to her and get to know her better and hear about her life and figure out what matters most to her.

  I’ve got a few weeks with her before we go our separate ways and return to our regular lives, even if nothing about my life is “regular” anymore. Regardless, I don’t want this opportunity with her to get away from me. I want to make the most of the time we’ll have together here and in LA to convince her to give me a chance.

  She doesn’t want that, and I understand why, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the last six years of my life, it’s this: I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I know that’s easy for me to say because I don’t have parents, siblings or anyone who would care about who I get involved with. She does, and that makes things complicated for her.

  While I respect that, it’s not complicated for me. I gave up six years of my life, my leg, my two best friends and the woman I loved in service to my country. I don’t owe anyone anything. This next phase of my life is going to be about me and what I want.

  I want her.

  I want to get to know her better. I want more of the kisses we shared, and I want to feel the way I do whenever she’s around—off-balance but in a good way, uncertain, excited to hear what she has to say, hopeful.

  That last one is big for me. I haven’t had any reason to feel hopeful since I lost Ava, and now I do. And it’s all because of her.

  If she thinks I’m going to let that feeling slip through my fingers, she’s about to find out otherwise.

  * * *

  JULIANNE

  It’s nearly ten o’clock when we return to the Four Seasons. Muncie’s room is first, and he says he’ll see us in the morning.

  Propped on his crutches, John turns to face Muncie. “Did you find out about the gym?”

  Muncie nods. “They said no problem on five to six a.m., but after that, they have to open it to everyone. Your room key will get you in.”

  “Great, thanks for arranging that.”

  “No problem. Try to get some sleep.”

  “Will do.”

  I tell myself to head straight to my room and pretend he didn’t ask to talk to me after we got back. We’ve covered all the business that needs to be addressed for tomorrow. He knows we have to be back at Rockefeller Center for the Today show at seven thirty. He’s on in the eight o’clock half hour. After that, he’s on Kelly and Ryan. It’ll be a busy morning, but we’ll have the rest of the day free. I’m planning to use that time to go home, do some laundry and pick up more clothes.

  What could he want to talk about?

  If I pretend not to know the answer to that question, I can act like it doesn’t matter that he wants to spend more time with me. Alone with me. I swallow hard as we walk to the end of the long hallway where my room is the last door on the left, right next to his.

  “Can you come in for a minute?” he asks.

  “I, um, I probably shouldn’t. I’ve got some things to confirm for tomorrow anyway.”

  “Liar.” The statement is softened by the curve of his lips and the light in his eyes.

  “I’m not lying!”

  “Yes, you are. You’ve had everything confirmed for a week now, and there’s nothing left to do but show up at the appointed times.”

  What can I say to that? It’s absolutely true.

  “Come in for a minute.” He withdraws the keycard from his pocket, opens the door and holds it for me, all while managing crutches.

  I’m frozen in place, indecision racking me. I know what I should do. And I know what I want to do. I take a step forward a
nd then another until I’m inside the room.

  The door closes behind me with a loud click that echoes through the vast space.

  John goes to the bar that the hotel has outfitted with anything and everything he could possibly want. I love that they’re giving him top-level VIP treatment. He certainly deserves it. “Drink?”

  I figure I can have one more glass of white wine before I venture into the realm of tipsy. I most definitely need to maintain control of my senses right now. “White wine?”

  “Coming right up. Make yourself comfortable.”

  I kick off my heels and curl up on the sofa with my legs under me.

  He walks over without the crutches, bringing a glass of wine for me and a bottle of beer for himself and, after turning on the gas fireplace, sits next to me. He’s removed his tie and coat and released the top few buttons of his shirt.

  “A fire in August?” I ask him, brow raised.

  “I love fires. Bonfires, beach fires, fireplaces. I’ve never lived in a house with a fireplace, but I’ve always wanted one.”

  “You should get one in the next place you live.”

  “It’s at the top of my list.”

  “Will you stay in San Diego?”

  “Probably. It’s the only place that’s ever felt like home to me, even if it’s different now.”

  Without Ava, he means.

  “How do you really think it went with Fallon?”

  I glance at him. “You have to ask?”

  He shrugs. “It seemed to go well, but it’s hard to tell when you’re the one being interviewed. It was like a blur.”

  “You honestly don’t get it, do you?”

  His brows come together in an adorable look of confusion. “Get what?”

  “You were magnificent. They loved you, and everyone who sees it tonight will love you, too. You’re going to be a very big star after this.”

  “I’m still not sure how I feel about that.”

  “You probably ought to figure out how to feel about it, because it’s happening. My phone—and yours—have been ringing nonstop all night long with people who want you for something. I haven’t taken any of the calls or listened to the voicemails because our focus needs to be on the tour, but afterward? You’re going to have your pick of anything you want to do.”

  “I haven’t heard phones ringing all night.”

  “I had them on silent.”

  “If that’s how it’s going to be, you can’t quit me after the media tour. I’m going to need you far beyond that. I have no clue how to deal with any of this.”

  My heart kicks into overdrive at the thought of more time alone with him. My brain tells my heart to stand down, but the heart apparently has a mind of its own and it’s looking hard in his direction. “Let’s get through the next couple of weeks and figure out a plan then.”

  “You aren’t going to leave me here to watch the show by myself, are you?”

  I glance at my watch. It’s not on for an hour yet. “I’ll watch it with you, but then I have to go to bed and so do you if you’re planning to work out at five. We need you well-rested for TV.”

  “God forbid I should have bags under my eyes.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I just want to say… Thanks for all the prep work you did with me. At the time, I didn’t really see why we had to do that, but I get it now. When I was out there tonight, at least I felt ready to not make a complete fool of myself.”

  “There’s no way you would’ve made a fool of yourself.”

  “I might’ve without all the time you spent getting me ready.”

  “I’m glad you felt like it was worth the bother.”

  “It was definitely worth it.”

  At some point, he turned so he’s facing me, giving me his full attention, which is more than my fragile willpower can handle.

  He reaches for my hand and links our fingers.

  My mouth goes dry, and the humming gets so loud, I almost can’t hear anything else over the roar inside my own head.

  “Could I say something else?”

  “John…”

  “Poppy…”

  It’s all I can do not to whimper. Other than the mess with my ex-fiancé, I haven’t often had reason to feel that life isn’t fair. With this man sitting inches from me, gazing at me with the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen as he holds my hand, I’m acutely aware of how unfair life can be. If it weren’t for Ava and Eric, I’d leap into whatever this is with him with everything I am. To hell with my job and the career I’ve worked so hard to have.

  He grins. “You know what I was thinking earlier?”

  “What’s that?”

  “You got to ask me all kinds of probing questions, but I haven’t gotten to do the same with you.”

  I should remove my hand from his grasp and get the hell out of there. Right now. But I’m riveted by the way he looks at me and the small, subtle movement of his thumb over my hand. My heart beats so fast, I fear I might pass out or have a heart attack or vomit or something equally embarrassing.

  “Wh-what do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That does nothing to slow the galloping beat of my heart. I guzzle the wine, which only makes me feel more lightheaded.

  “What’re you most ashamed of?”

  Other than holding hands with Ava’s ex, the man who broke her heart and is now endangering her marriage to my brother? I look down at our joined hands, trying to think of something worse than this.

  “When I was in middle school and high school, I was bullied.” I never talk about this.

  He frowns. “By who?”

  “One of the mean girls who decided I was too pretty, too popular, too successful in school and sports, and I needed to be taken down a few notches. She was relentless.”

  “There was nothing anyone could do?” He seems dismayed for me, which makes me like him even more than I already do.

  “My parents would’ve been all over it, but I didn’t tell them about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was afraid that would make it worse.”

  With his free hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the light touch of his fingertip setting off a powerful wave of desire that I feel everywhere. I’m never going to survive this. He’s going to incinerate me and leave the life I had before him in ashes, and even knowing that, I can’t force myself to move, to leave, to run. Whatever it takes to get away from this powerful trap he’s set for me.

  “What happened?”

  “Our junior year, she was raped and murdered by another kid we went to school with.”

  “What? Oh my God. That’s awful, even if she was awful to you. No one deserves that.”

  “It was horrifying. I hated her, but I was so deeply affected by what happened to her.”

  “Of course you were. Even after what she’d put you through, she was still just a kid.”

  “Yes.” I’m relieved that he understands when so many people in my life, who’d known what Tori did to me, didn’t get my pervasive grief over what’d happened to her. “I’ve always felt guilty over hating her, and I’ve tried to make up for it by giving volunteer time to women’s crisis centers. I also organize an annual fundraiser in her name in our hometown. I feel like the least I can do is make sure people never forget her name.”

  “You’re amazing,” he whispers. “That you do that for someone who made your life hell says so much about who you are.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”

  “Yes, it is. Putting aside what she did to you to make sure she’s remembered—it’s truly amazing. Not everyone has the ability to forgive the people who’ve hurt them the way she hurt you.”

  “It helped me to get over what happened to her by doing something meaningful.”

  “It’s incredibly impressive.”

  “We’ve raised more than a million dollars for women’s shelters and resource progra
ms, all in her name.”

  “I’m in awe. Truly. And I bet that most of the people who’ve been involved in the effort with you have no idea how she treated you.”

  I shrug. “What does it matter now?”

  “It matters. You matter. You’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside.”

  Before I have a second to catch up, he’s leaning in and his lips are touching mine. Over the humming, which gets louder by the second, I can hear my brain cells frying and taking with them every reason why I shouldn’t let this happen. The brain cells are overruled by desire so sharp, so intense, that it outweighs everything else, even my common sense.

  My hand curls around his neck, my empty wineglass falls to the floor, and my lips open to his tongue.

  A groan seems to come from the deepest part of him as his arms encircle me, possibly to make sure I can’t escape.

  I’m not going anywhere.

  His lips are hungry, ravenous, devouring.

  I’ve had boyfriends since I was fourteen. I’ve been kissed—many times. I’ve had sex with six men. I have never experienced anything even close to what it’s like to kiss this man. One taste of him, and I’m addicted.

  “Poppy,” he whispers when we come up for air. “You taste like heaven.”

  That nickname does it for me. Everything about him does it for me.

  He goes back for more, and I give it to him. I’d give him anything he asked for. My resistance crumbles like a house of cards, and not even the thought of what Eric would have to say about me kissing the face off Ava’s long-lost ex can stop me from tipping my head to get a better angle. I lose all track of time and place as the kiss goes on and on. I’m under him, the hard ridge of his cock is pressed to my core, he squeezes my ass through my dress, and all I want is to remove the barriers standing between us and the need that’s stronger than anything I’ve ever felt.

  His lips skim my ear. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

  “Don’t stop.”

  He raises his head to look me in the eye. “Jules.”