“Sit down, Sarah.” Sarah shot him a rebellious look and continued gathering her things. “Please. Please sit down,” When she continued working Eamon asked again. “Please?” Slowly, she curled into the chair by the window. He pulled up an ottoman and sat directly in front of her eye to eye and so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. “You’re wrong. You are so wrong about this,” Eamon looked directly into her eyes willing her to understand. “One day more than a year ago, I look at a table in a restaurant, and there’s a sweet, sexy woman who reads constantly and knows music. I beg an introduction, and I take her out and discover that in addition to being smart, she’s got scruples and a keen sense of humor and damn, she can dance! From the beginning, I wanted to give you whatever you needed to feel safe with me because I knew you were more, much more than a date. But then the shit went down and I got mad when you almost cost me Rainwhite. I decided to take advantage of you and use you to deflect any hostility that arose from the takeover. Yeah, I was going to use you but not the way you thought.” Eamon dropped his head. “I was pissed and I reacted.”
“I understood that, Eamon. I could understand why you’d be angry. But what I didn’t understand was all the mixed signals.”
Eamon saw Sarah’s expression close again. He got up and paced back and forth in front of her. “You walk in that first day of work dressed like an advertisement for Anime R Us. It felt like a declaration of war. So I threw you into the deep end of a charity event, and you became Grace Kelly.” Sarah was listening to him now, so he sat back in front of her and leaned forward. “I take you to a convention and you morphed into the perfect gopher and took an embarrassing situation and turned it into a freaking triumph. You brush a crumb from my face and light a fire under me that has never gone out! You pull together a team and move an idea forward that makes me a pile of money. I kept waiting for you to screw something up, but you never did.”
“I was just doing my job,” Sarah said, trying to understand why this bothered him. “I wanted you to be proud of me.”
“And I was, Sarah. I kept throwing you into the deep end, and you kept swimming. My college friends adored you, Andrea adopted you, and Martin and John defended you. I take you home and my mother teaches you how to make pie crust, my brothers and sisters think you’re the bomb.” Eamon took her face in his hands. “And then…then you take me to your bed, screw my brains out and tell me it never happened and that it didn’t mean anything.” His stomach tightened as he remembered and he clenched his jaw to clamp down on the emotions that rose. “And while I was still trying to wrap my head around that, you almost die on me. You thought I was in control? I felt like I was in a flat-spin going down in flames. I got you pregnant. I was responsible for hurting you, and I didn’t like that feeling.” Eamon met her eyes again and Sarah saw the hurt there. “Sarah, why did you throw my offer of help back in my face? I just wanted you to stop hurting.”
Sarah was calmer now. She was wounded and upset, but she wasn’t angry. He sounded as confused as she was. “Because I misunderstood what was happening. It felt like those “bye-bye babe” gifts you always made me send to the women you wanted to leave. It felt like a bauble to keep me appeased while you walked away.”
Eamon took her hands and held them in his. “Swear to God, Sarah, it wasn’t that. The day you almost died was the worst day of my life. All I wanted to do was help you heal.”
“So what does it mean, Eamon? I love you. I can’t just work in your office and be your protégé and look on while you screw half of Kansas City. Do you know how much it hurt to send those gifts and know what they meant? I’m not capable of that any longer,” Sarah explained.
Eamon pulled Sarah out of the chair, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. He wanted to hold her. “I know what you want Sarah, and I can’t…believe me, I want….” Eamon was at a loss for words, so he just stroked her still damp hair behind her ear.
“I know. There is something about what you feel for me that terrifies you. You can’t be obligated to anyone. I understood that in Chicago, when you got so angry at me.” Sarah put her head on his shoulder. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Just hold me.”
“Sarah…I can’t just hold you and I don’t want…I don’t want to take advantage of you, but…”
Sarah loved him so much. He wanted to be a gentleman; she could hear it in his voice, but she wanted to be with him one last time. “Then let me take advantage of you. Make long, passionate love to me, right now. I want to feel you inside me once more.”
Eamon hesitated.
Sarah thought she understood. “There’s no chance of a baby. My period’s due.”
“It isn’t that. I have protection. I just don’t want to hurt you again. I don’t like hurting you.”
“Then don’t hurt me, just make love to me, Eamon.” Sarah kissed him and Eamon kissed her back.
“Sarah,” he said against her lips before sliding his tongue into her mouth so that their tongue could dance.
Sarah sighed in delight and ran her hands over Eamon’s body, unbuttoning the fly of his jeans to go exploring with her hand. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to the bedroom, kissing her neck and shoulder as he walked. He put her down on the bed and then stripped off his jeans and undershirt as Sarah removed her things. Eamon joined her on the bed and began kissing her body, her belly, and her flanks. He parted her thighs and ran his tongue gently over her labia. She tasted like a fine wine, one flavor overlaid on another and another as he buried his tongue inside her and savored the tang of her juices. He circled her clit with his lips and kissed her there before plunging his tongue into her again. She was wet, and the taste of her arousal was an aphrodisiac, making him more excited. Her hands fluttered around him, aimless, seeking. When he found her clit once more, she spread her fingers out on the bed, palm down as she pushed against his mouth and made soft mewing sounds.
Eamon couldn’t wait any longer. He tore open the foil and then moved in between her legs. Sarah’s eyes, dark with desire met his. She reached and took hold of him, caressing him with her fingers as she guided him. “Eamon,” she whispered, “oh, Eamon.”
Eamon entered her slowly, as slowly as he could manage until he was completely sheathed insider her. He turned his head so that he could see her face and meet her eyes as he began to move back and forth. He wanted to see her; he wanted to watch Sarah as they made love. She matched his rhythm, her gaze solely on him; eyes alight with love and growing pleasure. Eamon kissed her briefly and rocked deeper insider her. She began to make little sweet sounds in her throat that became louder as she grew more aroused. Eamon backed off, sitting on his knees, her body impaled on him as he reached for her nipples and began to gently twist and pull while at the same time he flowed in and out of her sweet sheath.
Sarah gave herself over to him completely. Every part of her called to him, demanded him. Sarah’s breath began to come in sharp gasps and her skin began to flush. He continued to roll and pull her nipples twisting them, squeezing them as he repeatedly impaled her faster and harder. He lifted her hips and leaned over her once more as Sarah’s eyes rolled back and she rocked upward for him. Eamon felt the rhythmic pulse of her body as she came.
It was wildly exciting but Eamon made himself stop moving. He didn’t want it to end yet. He wanted to give her more, be with her longer because Eamon knew without doubt that in all the years of sleeping with women, screwing like crazy, that this woman, this woman was the only woman with whom he’d actually made love, and he wanted to make love to her as long as he could. When she came back to earth, Eamon kissed her lips and pulled out long enough to turn her over on her stomach, sliding back into her from behind, cupping her breasts, rubbing her belly, holding her hips as he plummeted in and out of her, helping her reach another climax.
“Oh God, Sarah,” he cried as she convulsed around him moaning sweetly. Eamon exploded inside her, crying out and thrusting deep again and again until he was spent. Then he collapsed on t
he bed beside her.
Sarah rolled into his arms. She cupped his now satisfied manhood in her hand and pressed her mouth against his chest. “I love you, Eamon, I love you so much. I’ll always love you, baby,” she whispered and fell asleep.
I want to feel you inside me once more. Eamon held her close. I love you, Eamon. He was blown away. If he could say just one word, one stupid word, stay, Sarah would remain. But he couldn’t say it. He loved her so much it hurt and he still couldn’t say it. He gathered her close, kissed her shoulder and folded around her like a warm blanket. “I love you, Gamer Girl,” he whispered near her ear.
Eamon woke the next morning and reached for Sarah, but she wasn’t there. He sat up and looked around. He was alone in the hotel room. Sarah’s dress was in the trash but the rest of her things were gone. He pulled on his jeans and walked around the room. There was a note for him written on hotel stationery lying on the table.
Eamon,
When you aren’t afraid, find me.
Sarah.
Eamon looked out the window. It was daylight and he had a great view of the parking lot. Sarah’s car was gone.
“You could have said goodbye,” Eamon whispered. He hit the table hard with his fist, and then he got dressed and checked out of the hotel.
Chapter 31
He said
In the weeks that followed Sarah’s departure, Eamon was a zombie. He went through the motions. He came in to work, he did deals, he made decisions and then went out at night, dated, and screwed, but it left him empty, bereft and desolate.
Sarah was with him in the quiet hours of the night haunting him in his dreams. Again and again she was in his arms, saying “I love you, Eamon,” and he’d wake up alone with her name on his lips.
He went out to the farm for Christmas. Siobhan came home with a fiancé announcing that she was engaged to be married. Eamon went through the motions. He congratulated his sister, he opened presents, sang carols, went to Mass, ate turkey. He was a player on the stage, acting the part, but Sarah haunted him in the night.
The day after Christmas, Eamon walked across the meadow to the creek. The trees which were so green and full in July were now bare; their leaves, lying on the ground, crunched beneath his boots as he walked. Eamon reached his favorite spot, tried to clear his head and get back his sense of balance, but it wasn’t working. He sat down on a rock. He was close to tears, his throat ached, but he couldn’t cry. He felt too hollow to cry.
“Eamon?”
Eamon looked up. His father was standing there. He’d been so lost in his own head; he hadn’t even heard his dad approach.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Son, you’ve been walkin’ around like a dead man since you got here. Mind tellin’ me what eatin’ at yah?”
Eamon said nothing.
Riordan held out his hand. “Come on, boyo. Walk with me.”
Eamon allowed his father to help him to his feet and the two men set off through the woods. “It’s the girl, that sweet Miss Adams you brought home in July. What happened?”
“She’s gone, Dad. She went home.” Eamon tucked his hands in his pockets.
“She broke up with you?”
“No.” Eamon said.
“Ah, you pushed her away, didn’t yah?
Eamon started to deny it, but he needed to tell it to someone. He needed to say it all. “I slept with Sarah, Dad. Got her pregnant. She miscarried, almost died on me. It was the worst day of my freaking life. And when I knew she was going to be okay, I pushed her away with both hands.”
Riordan stopped dead in his tracks. “Ah don’t understand, Eamon, you love that girl. Your Ma and I saw it the first time you brought her here. How could yah do that to her?”
Eamon, who’d kept walking whirled around to face his father. “I’ve seen what love does, Dad. I watched you sweat away your life at that god damn auto plant, scraping, scrimping by, and living paycheck to paycheck. I watched you turn yourself into a slave for love. Never able to do what you wanted. I swore I would never let some woman do that to me.”
Riordan’s eyebrows went up. “Ah, I see. Let me ask you somethin’ son. The day she almost died, did you feel free? When you almost lost her forever…did yah feel free then?”
“I don’t…”
“And now that she’s gone. Are yah feelin’ free now? You got what you wanted. How does that feel, Eamon?”
“I-I”
Riordan stepped up to his son and grabbed him by his jacket. “And how dare you judge my life! I am not a slave, boyo. I saw yer Ma and I knew that I would pay any price t’ have her. It’s over thirty years since I married her and she still takes my breath away. I lie beside her every night and I see her face every morning and I count myself a lucky man. Free? I am never as free as when I am thinkin’ of yer Ma and bein’ with her. I’m the rich man, Eamon, not you. I have everything that matters. You just have money.”
When Eamon said nothing, Riordan shook him hard. “Tell me son, how many of those women you sleep with make you feel that way? Can you even remember their faces? How well does that fancy condo and hot car fill that empty place inside you now?”
“Yeah? Well you weren’t the only one who paid the price, Dad. Siobhan and Aidan and the rest of us were all there paying the price with you! All of us crammed into that tiny house. Never a moment’s peace, never a moment’s privacy. Wearing worn out shoes and hand me down—“
Riordan slapped Eamon hard across the mouth. “Dia diabhal asal dúr! Éist do bhéal —you shut your mouth! You know nuthin’ about bein’ poor.” Riordan’s eyes flashed fire. “You didn’t go without food, you didn’t go without a roof over your head, and you don’t know what it’s like to see yer ma die from illness and no money for a doctor. So don’t you tell me about how hard you had it!”
“Dad! I’m sorry.” Suddenly Eamon was fifteen again. “I didn’t mean…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His voice broke. “Swear to God, Dad, I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Riordan calmed down. In a softer voice, he said, “It’s a paradox, Eamon. The more you seek freedom in things the less freedom you will have. But you love that girl. That is the truth of it, and only the truth can set you free.”
Eamon furtively wiped his eyes. Riordan gave him time and finally put his arm around his son. “Let’s get to the house for some coffee before we both freeze.”
Eamon went back to town, to work, went back to his condo. He tried to screw women to make the pain go away but it didn’t work, he couldn’t exorcise her. When it all got too bleak, he’d put up the video and watch her sing.
…Will I see you once again, in the Meadowlands of home? Will you kiss me once again, my sweet one, my own?
“Sarah,” He whispered, staring at the screen. “Sarah, what have I done?”
A couple months went by and Eamon received an email. When he saw the sender, everything just went quiet. His sat there, finger poised over the mouse a long moment before he opened it.
Eamon,
I’m returning to Kansas City. San Diego is so expensive. Don’t want to live off my Mom and Dad or David, and the Midwest is home for me.
Not trying to stalk, just need to be able to pay the bills. Don’t worry.
Sarah
Eamon stared at the message. How could he say what he wanted to say? “It’s a free country” was too harsh. “Come home, Sarah,” sounded like begging. Finally, he wrote back.
I understand, Sarah. I don’t question your motives. Have a safe trip back.
E.
He sent the email, feeling happier than he had in weeks. Sarah was coming back to Kansas City. Eamon looked for her in all the usual places. He ate lunch at the bistro, but he never saw her there. Jason and the choir proved to be a dead end—Sarah wasn’t singing with them this season.
It was stupid. All he had to do was email her. Eamon knew that Sarah would write him back. But that would be admitting that he needed her and he did need her, but that scared the hell out of him
. Fear kept him paralyzed.
Winter transitioned into spring. Eamon was waiting at a light by the park in front of the US District Court when he saw her. Sarah came out of the courthouse, tote bag slung across her shoulder. She crossed the street but didn’t see him as she walked down the sidewalk toward the Jackson County Courthouse. She was Miss Paralegal again, dressed in a classic sheath, wearing simple pumps. Honked at by the car behind him, Eamon pulled away and tried to find a parking place, but by the time he found an empty spot and ran back to the park, she was gone. Sarah!
Frustrated, Eamon drove on and ended up late to his meeting. A few days after seeing her, he walked into his office to find Martin sitting at his conference table with two coffees waiting.
Eamon sat down and took one of the cups. “What’s up?”
“What’s up with you, man?” Martin asked. “You’ve been distracted for weeks now; your head’s not in the game and you’re late for meetings. Eamon, what’s wrong?”
Moving to the windows, Eamon looked down on the city and wondered where she was, wondered if she was a block away or somewhere out in the burbs. “She’s out there. She told me she was coming back to town.”
“You mean Sarah?” Martin got up and moved to stand beside him. “This is about Sarah?”
“Yeah.”
Martin punched Eamon’s arm, hard. “Damn it, why don’t you just grow up and admit that your life is freaking desert without her! You love her, Eamon! When are you going to accept that?”
Eamon whirled around so that he could look Martin in the eye. “You know where she is?”
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