This Changes Everything (Oakland Hills Book 4)

by Gretchen Galway

  Sly stood next to the bench, hands in his pockets, staring at her with dark, piercing eyes.

  “Don’t go,” he said.

  32

  Adrenaline surged through Cleo’s veins. “I knew it! I knew you’d be here. I knew it.”

  He didn’t move. “Yet you came.”

  “I knew she’d do something to get me up here. I left early enough this morning so I could avoid her, but when Bev asked for a lesson at six tonight, such a coincidence since it was the same day Trixie and Hugo came back from wherever they were after Vegas, I just knew—”

  She spun away from him and headed for the door. Being alone with him wasn’t what she’d expected. A dinner party, a family BBQ, a group. Not him alone.

  “Don’t go. Cleo, please. Hear me out.”

  She opened the door. “Where’s the new Volvo?”

  “Down the street.”

  “Thought so,” she said.

  He came after her. “I’m sorry about Thursday. And everything else.”

  “Everything?”

  “No. I didn’t mean that.” He reached over her head and pushed the door shut.

  She could smell his cologne. A scent memory from their lovemaking in Las Vegas nearly knocked her over. “You’re kidnapping me?”

  He braced both hands over her head and crowded her against the door. “Yes.”

  Her heart was pounding in her throat, blocking her airways. To avoid his gaze, which would see too much, all the longing and the doubt, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  Which only heightened her sense of smell.

  “Are you listening?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Impossibly, she imagined she could hear him smile.

  “I bought a new phone,” he said.

  “I don’t care.”

  “I know.” His breath was soft on her cheek. “I screwed up.”

  “It’s not your fault you don’t want the same things I do. It’s good to get it out in the open before we take this too far.”

  “Are you going to conduct this entire conversation with your eyes closed?”

  She nodded.

  Now she knew she could hear him smiling. Something about his breathing changed as it moved through curved lips. “You know what I think?” he asked. “I think you’re the one who’s afraid of where this might go.”

  “Now you’re just getting desperate,” she said.

  “You bet I am. Desperate to have you.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. She’d make a run for it but her knees were weak. She’d probably fall down and then he’d really have her where he wanted her.

  Damned if she wasn’t tempted.

  “I’m not afraid of… you know,” she said.

  “Love?”

  “I told you that I thought my mom was right all along.”

  “You’re saying you love me?” he asked.

  She pinched her lips together and reminded herself about groveling.

  He whispered in her ear, sending shockwaves down her spine. “I think you do love me. That’s why you’re here.”

  “Big deal. I’ve told you that before.”

  “This is different.” His lips grazed her temple.

  “Is it?” Her voice sounded too high. “Why, just because we slept together?”

  “Because we both wanted it so bad. For so long.” Brushing her hair to one side, he dropped kisses along her neck and pressed his pelvis into hers. The door was as hard as he was. “And still do.”

  “I want more than sex.”

  “Sure you do.”

  “I do.” Opening her eyes, she put her palms on his broad chest and pushed.

  He held himself at arm’s length, leaning into her hands, staring at her. “So do I.”

  “You want sex and TV and beer and good times,” she said.

  “Don’t you?”

  “I want more than that.”

  “You’re trying to scare me away,” he said. “It’s not going to work.”

  “I’m serious, Sly. I want it all. I want all the things you don’t.”

  “I’ve been thinking. Marrying you wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “Oh, thank you. I’m overwhelmed.”

  “And it would be interesting to see what our kids looked like. DNA from so many continents. I wonder if any would be as blond as you.”

  Tears were burning in her eyes. “Don’t joke. Don’t.”

  He caught her face in his hands. “I’m not joking.” His mocking smile vanished. “I’ve never let myself think about it before. Once I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

  “You’re thirty-five. Pretty late for it to cross your mind.” She broke away from him and stumbled across the room. Wouldn’t be so bad, she thought as she picked up her bag. “I’m sure it’ll pass.”

  “You’re trying to make this about me,” he said. “But you’re the one who’s afraid. You got hurt before. It’s natural you want to avoid getting hurt again. Which is why I’m going to be patient.”

  Sheet music fell out of her open bag. Hands shaking, she scooped up the booklets and shoved them back inside.

  Was he right? Was she panicking?

  Had he really imagined their children’s faces?

  While she dropped more sheet music to the floor, the door flew open and Liam strode in with a garment bag over his shoulder. Trixie’s oldest son and Bev’s husband was taller than Sly. Blond, good-looking, intimidating. A former Olympian, Cleo had heard.

  Liam flung his bag onto a chair and turned on Sly. “Just the man I want to see.”

  “Liam.” Sly held out his hand. “Nice to see you again. Bev let me in—”

  Liam ignored his outstretched hand. “You were there. In Vegas.”

  “We both were,” she said quickly.

  Liam kept his gaze on Sly. “Last week, your uncle and my mother got married. To each other, in fact.”

  Cleo moved to Sly’s side so they could present a unified front. “Don’t worry. They’re not serious.”

  One of Liam’s golden eyebrows rose. “Not serious?”

  “We think it was just a ruse to get us together,” she said.

  Liam’s second eyebrow shot up. “Is that what you think?”

  “It was an old Taco Bell,” Sly said. “There was Elvis. Playing a ukulele.”

  Liam flinched. “Have you seen them?”

  “Not since Las Vegas,” Sly said.

  “I was just over at my mother’s house,” Liam said. “Bev told me to go over there from the airport instead of here, saying her piano teacher needed a few minutes alone with Sylly Minguez.”

  They didn’t say anything. Cleo could feel her face heating.

  “You know who really needed a few minutes alone?” Liam bent over, picked up a pair of blocks, and fit them together. “My mother and her new husband.”

  Sly smiled. “Hugo’s over there?”

  “Oh, he’s over there. And so’s his recliner, flat-screen TV, and impressive collection of Star Wars memorabilia.”

  She and Sly exchanged smiles.

  “That was fast,” Sly muttered.

  “You knew,” Liam continued, his voice flat. “You were at this wedding.”

  “We were indeed,” Sly said. “Elvis too.”

  “You think this is funny?”

  “I think it’s great,” Sly said. “And so should you. Hugo is a good guy. Your mom seems to think so too. They deserve to be happy.”

  “This isn’t about being happy,” Liam said. “It’s about sneaking around. Did you tell your family about the wedding?”

  “Not right away,” Sly said.

  “But you told them.”

  “They already knew,” Sly said.

  “I didn’t,” Liam said. “I would’ve liked to. Did you tell Mark?”

  Perhaps out of loyalty to their friendship, Sly didn’t answer.

  Cleo didn’t have the same restrictions. “He’s the one who convinced us it was fake.”

  “Once we got back home, it didn�
��t seem real,” Sly added.

  Liam set the blocks on top of the piano. “Is your uncle the type of man to go through an actual wedding ceremony for the hell of it?”

  Sly cleared his throat. “No.”

  “Neither is my mother,” Liam said. “You wouldn’t know that, but Mark should. The woman is obsessed with matrimony. It’s like her religion. She’d never lie about something so important to her.”

  They stood there in silence, an awkward trio with sheet music and plastic blocks littering their feet.

  “She says I would’ve blamed you,” Liam said. “My mother. She wanted to tell me herself when they got home.”

  Cleo and Sly remained quiet. Ten points for Trixie, she thought.

  “Come on,” Liam said, nodding toward the door. “She’s opened the champagne. We can’t let them drink it all by themselves.”

  33

  Reluctantly, Sly followed Liam and Cleo out the door. He wasn’t thrilled to join Trixie and Hugo’s wedding celebration right now. He’d been so close. Just a few more minutes and she would’ve caved. She’d be on her way to his place where he could seal the deal. Or begin sealing. It might take hours. Days.

  Directly behind her, he watched her fair hair sway back and forth as she moved, remembering how silky it felt under his fingers. He’d always appreciated her hair, even before he’d been ready to admit how much he appreciated the rest of her.

  She was still fighting it. Maybe the celebratory atmosphere would make his case better than he ever could.

  “April and Zack are already here,” Liam said, striding down the steps to the driveway. “With their dog. It’s quite a zoo in there right now.”

  “Is Mouse there too?” Cleo asked.

  “I’m sure there are,” Liam said.

  Cleo laughed, giving Sly hope.

  “Not that kind,” Sly said. “Mouse is my dog. He’s with Bella right now.”

  “Too bad,” she said softly.

  “It is?” Sly asked.

  She glanced at him. “Cool dog. I didn’t really get to see him before.”

  “You will.” He held his breath, waiting for her to disagree. She didn’t say a word.

  So close. One toast and they were out of there. He’d properly congratulate Hugo later.

  It was already dark outside, but unusually clear. No fog to block the three-quarter moon glowing over the roof of Trixie’s house or the shimmering lights of the East Bay cities below. November brought the first really cold nights of the year, but that was good for climbing into bed.

  A red Mini pulled up just as they were crossing the driveway between the two houses. Rose climbed out and gave them all a curious look.

  “Turns out Trixie’s really married,” Sly told her.

  “I knew it!” Rose spun around and bent over to shout into the car. “I told you it was real!”

  Liam threw up his hands. “Did everyone know but me?”

  Mark got out of the Mini and slammed the door. “I thought Mom was fooling around.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Liam marched up to the house and pulled open the front door. “Come on, let’s meet the guy.”

  “He’s a good guy,” Sly said.

  “Better be,” Liam said.

  They filed inside and were attacked instantly by Trixie’s three tiny dogs and a larger, quieter dog with three legs.

  Trixie rushed over with a champagne flute in each hand. “Oh, Liam, you interrupted them. I told you not to go over there.”

  Liam whacked Sly’s shoulder. “He looked like he needed a moment to regroup.”

  Trixie shoved a glass into Sly’s hand. “Buck up. She’ll come around.”

  “Hello,” Cleo said. “Right here.”

  “I know, dear, that’s why I’m holding this glass for you.” Trixie gave her the other one.

  Hugo joined them with two more glasses. “We got a chocolate cake at Safeway. It’s in the kitchen.” He handed both glasses to Liam. “Come on, the ice cream’s melting.”

  Putting their arms around each other, Trixie and Hugo wandered back into the kitchen.

  “Nice,” Bev said, taking one of the glasses from Liam. “It’s like a birthday party. Oh, careful Sly. Look out below.”

  Sly looked down and saw baby Merry crawling around Cleo’s feet, patting her boots with two chubby hands.

  Sipping her drink, Cleo shot Sly a small smile. “She has a shoe fetish. Isn’t that cute?”

  “You’re cute,” Sly said, pitching his voice low. “Irresistible, even.”

  Cleo held his gaze. Pink spots bloomed on her cheeks.

  Moving between them, Liam lifted up Merry and planted a raspberry on her belly. “Leave the shoesies alone when people are wearing them, Mer-bear. Your fingers will get squished.”

  “We’ll get cake,” Bev said, clapping her hands. “Cake.”

  “Ooh,” Merry said. Was she trying to say shoe? Could a one-year-old baby do that?

  Bev and Liam followed the others to the kitchen.

  “Ooh,” Merry repeated over her daddy’s shoulder.

  Sly turned to Cleo. “Let’s get a piece of cake, shall we? I should give a toast.”

  “Tough crowd.”

  “I’ve had worse.” Sly stole a kiss. Her lips tasted like champagne. When she didn’t slap him or run away, he kissed her again. “I like your shoes too.”

  She blinked and stepped away. “Somebody said there was chocolate.”

  Feeling more than a little hopeful, he caught her arm in his and walked through the living and dining rooms to the kitchen. Although it was a big room, the Johnson family and its matrimonial satellites were a growing group. Mark and Liam’s little sister, April, was there with her boyfriend, Zack. Sly had hired him briefly that spring, but it hadn’t stuck. His relationship with April seemed far more lasting. He’d heard they were engaged.

  Bev shoved two plates laden with chocolate cake and ice cream at them. “Everyone should start eating.”

  “That’s my girl,” Liam said, smiling at her over the fork in his mouth.

  “Well, they should,” Bev said. “The ice cream’s melting.”

  “While everyone does that,” Hugo said, “I just want to say how much I appreciate you welcoming me into your family like this.”

  There was only a split second of silence. Then Liam said, “As long as my mom’s happy, I’m happy.”

  Trixie burst into tears. “Oh, I knew it would be OK.” She flung her arms around her oldest son and hugged him so hard he yelped. When she withdrew, he had chocolate smeared over his white dress shirt.

  Hugo blotted her tears with a paper towel. “I told you.”

  “It’s Mark I’m worried about,” Trixie said, looking around. She found him sitting on the floor with the three-legged dog in his lap. “Are you OK?”

  Mark drained his champagne. “I’m kind of annoyed. But I’ll get over it.”

  “It’s annoying I’ve brought another man into your father’s home?” Trixie asked.

  “No, it’s annoying I was…” He frowned. “Wrong. I hate being wrong.”

  “You didn’t have all the data,” Rose said, stroking unkempt hair off his forehead. “Garbage in, garbage out.”

  “I didn’t need any extra data,” Liam said.

  Mark looked mournfully into his wife’s eyes. “He’s never going to let me live this down.”

  “What data did you need, honey?” Trixie asked.

  Leaning on Rose, Mark got to his feet. He gestured at Hugo. “I’d never seen you two together.”

  Sly looked at his uncle, flushed and beaming. He saw the way Trixie stood next to him so that at least one body part was always in contact.

  “But now that you have?” Trixie put both arms around Hugo and rested her cheek on his flannel-shirted chest.

  “Now I know I’ve got a new stepfather,” Mark said. “Not that I had an old one. Right?”

  Trixie smiled up at Hugo. “He’s the first.”

  “And the last,” Hugo said.
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  “Unless you die,” she said, still smiling.

  More than one person sucked in a shocked breath.

  “Well, I am a widow, for Christ’s sake,” Trixie said. “I’m just being realistic.”

  ♢ ♡ ♤

  After everyone had some cake and champagne and shook Hugo’s hand or hugged Trixie, the initial discomfort seemed to fade. Conversation turned to Merry and grandchildren, Rose and Mark’s wedding earlier that year, April and Zack’s recent engagement, and the family’s plans for Thanksgiving.

  Conscious of being an outsider, Cleo moved to the back of the group, near the doorway to the dining room, where she could shovel more chocolate cake into her mouth. As soon as the moment was right, she was going to slip away.

  “How about a toast,” Sly declared, tapping a spoon against a glass. He was standing in the middle of the group, a relaxed smile on his face.

  Cleo ate another bite of cake but was too distracted to taste it. He was always so confident. Anytime, anyplace. Always at ease, always sure of himself. Almost as much of an outsider as she was, but right there in the middle of things, commanding attention and getting things done.

  He raised his voice to address the group that was now circled around him. “I haven’t prepared anything to say, given the circumstances, so I’ll have to speak from my heart. I do have a heart, by the way.” He grinned as the group laughed. His gaze met Cleo’s and held it. “Not that I can claim to be an expert on love. Not this kind of love. Some people are naturals and seem to be born with an infinite capacity for giving and sharing and caring.”

  She swallowed.

  “The rest of us,” he continued, “are selfish bastards.” His grin returned along with the laughter.

  “Speak for yourself,” Mark called out.

  “Oh, I do, I do,” Sly said. “Which is exactly what Hugo and Trixie said back there in Vegas. I’m not a big fan of Elvis, but he did a pretty good job of capturing the moment in words. Don’t be cruel, love me tender. Or whatever. Like I said, I’m not a fan.”

  “You’re rambling,” Mark said.

  “Hey, you’re next, geek boy,” Sly said. “Because, as I said, I have a heart, or I did before I gave it away. Some of us are late bloomers. Some of us are slow to figure things out. But we get there in the end. And if we’re lucky, we get the chance to make it stick. Make it forever. All those years of getting it wrong have made us experts on what to do to get it right. And we’re afraid of going back. It’s highly motivating, is what I’m saying.”