by Mary Campisi
That was code for afraid and not sure what to do with the information in my brain. Well, she wasn’t scaring him away, not until he was certain she’d processed her own emotions. Rhyder held out his hands, palms facing upward as he moved closer. “I’m not going anywhere, Roxie, not until I know you’ve thought everything through, probably not even then.” Of course, that wasn’t true. If she told him she could never care about him, with or without a ring, then he’d be forced to accept the role of father without the title of husband. But not yet… Hell no. They had a long way to go before he accepted that she didn’t care about him and never could.
“Why?” Her voice trembled, her eyes turned bright. “Why did you have to ruin everything? We had a plan…an agreement that did not include love or happily ever after. It was about getting a baby and I even agreed to let you be involved in his or her life and—”
Okay, now she was annoying him. “You let me? You agreed to let me be in our child’s life?” He laughed, dragged a hand through his hair and let out what might be called a snort. Had he actually ever snorted before? No, but there’d never been a need for it until his life merged with Roxie Revito—his personal torment, the keeper and destroyer of his heart. “Let’s be real, Roxie. You know me well enough to admit I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”
The small chin jutted forward, the mouth opened and blew out a huff seconds before she tried to smother him with his own words. “Is that so? You just said a few minutes ago that you loved me. Are you saying that was planned? You did it because you wanted to…? Is the great Rhyder Remington going to confess he was open to feelings that included an emotion like love at a time when he absolutely insisted that emotion did not exist?”
So, she thought she was going to trap him with his own words? Good luck with that. “I entertained the notion weeks after spending an inordinate amount of time with you—” he emphasized the word inordinate so it could be taken in the context of something one looks forward to, or something that is forced upon a person “—and after several meetings that included a bed, a kitchen table, and a recliner…I determined that such an emotion as love might exist.”
Those eyes sizzled; she took a step closer, planted her feet, and bit out, “If I recall, you were the one spending inordinate amounts of time creating situations where we would be required to spend inordinate amounts of time together… Drawing me into conversations you knew would pique my interest… Wearing that ridiculous cologne you knew would attract my pheromones… And you knew just how to kiss and touch me to elicit a response and a need. Don’t you dare deny it, damn you. You made me want you.”
Ah, so she had wanted him and it was about a whole lot more than procreation. It was about desire and mood… And maybe it was even about good old-fashioned connection. Rhyder forced his voice to remain even, raised a brow. “I did all of those things to you? Me, a mere man incapable of knowing what constitutes a true emotion? Well, thank you.”
“Stay away from me.” She let out a snarl meant to intimidate and stalked away.
Rhyder watched her leave, listened for the rumble of her car pull away before he mumbled under his breath, “Not very likely.”
Roxie loved her Aunt Cecilia, admired her independence and spontaneity. Her father had always claimed his younger sister was a bohemian who didn’t understand anything but tie-dye and bangles. But while Aunt Cecilia might have loved her tie-dye wraps and homemade jewelry and chose those over a suit and diamonds, she possessed a talent her brother lacked. She’d been one of the few who’d tried to discourage Roxie from gravitating toward the many accolades thrust upon her before she was old enough to understand the consequences. Cecilia Revito accepted people for who they were in an open, nonjudgmental way. It was this universal acceptance that brought Roxie to her kitchen where her aunt offered her tea and homemade biscotti.
Aunt Cecilia stirred her tea, a home-brewed concoction made from several herbs in her garden. “Babies are a true blessing. I’m so happy for you.”
Roxie nodded, said in a quiet voice, “Thank you.”
“What’s wrong, dear? I can always tell when something’s troubling you.”
Yes, her aunt had the ability to sense her mood and had guided her out of more than one potential disaster. Maybe she could help her gain clarity in her present dilemma. “Oh, Aunt Cecilia, I’m such a mess and I’m in such a mess. How did I get so far off track?”
Her aunt smiled, patted Roxie’s hand. “This has to do with that young man, doesn’t it?” Pause, followed by a soft “The father of your baby? The one you were determined would be nothing more than a donor?”
Another nod, a sip of tea. Maybe the issue had been her lack of focus and meditation. When was the last time she’d meditated? A month? Two months? She couldn’t remember. But somewhere she bet Rhyder Remington was connected to the failure. Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t continue to blame the man for everything, not when she’d relinquished her own control and given him such power over her. Why had she done it? And when had it happened? She should have chosen Anson Welliver instead… A man she would never care about…
“Roxie? The gymnastics you’re putting your face through tell me you’ve got some rather serious issues tied to that young man, and I’m guessing they’re causing you a lot of confusion. I didn’t like your idea when you came to me with your plan to have a baby minus the involvement of a father or a relationship and I was honest about it.” Her voice drifted, turned sad. “There are always ramifications to our deeds, especially the ones we don’t anticipate. And while you may have had the best intentions to remain impartial and uninvolved, your heart refused to cooperate, didn’t it?”
Why was Aunt Cecilia talking as though she understood? Had she cared about someone and lost him...or worse, let him go? If so, did she regret it? “I’m so confused. I thought I knew what I wanted and how to get it, but now that I have it or could have it, I don’t think it’s enough.”
Her aunt nodded, eyes shimmering with tears. “You love him, don’t you?”
“Do I? Is that what this feeling of longing and desperation to be near him means?”
“Oh, Roxie...” A tear slipped down Cecilia’s cheek.
“When he’s near, I can’t take a full breath. When I think about him being in my life, I get lightheaded and when I think about him not being in my life, I get lightheaded. I don’t like these feelings and I don’t understand them and I wish they would just go away, but they won’t.”
“And I’m guessing they haven’t since shortly after you began spending more time with your young man? Am I right?”
Roxie dragged a hand through her hair, groaned. “Maybe.”
“Maybe,” her aunt repeated. “Maybe you’re afraid of caring too much, giving this man your whole heart because that will make you vulnerable and you could get hurt. Nobody wants to get hurt; we aren’t fools. But if you never share with him or let yourself be vulnerable enough to trust him?” Another tear slipped down Cecilia’s pale face. “You’ll never know true joy. Yes, it’s terrifying because you don’t want to depend on anyone but yourself, but you’ll have to because he’s worth it. Your love is worth it. And whether or not you care to admit it to yourself or him, you love that man and he loves you. You belong together, my sweet child. You must find a way to work past the differences, trust and believe in each other and in your love.”
“But…” It was Roxie’s turn to cry, to let the tears slip from her cheeks to her neck. “I am so scared.”
Her aunt patted her hand, spoke in a voice filled with longing and regret. “I know, but please don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let him go because you think you don’t need anyone but yourself. You need him as much as he needs you. You’ll make each other stronger, wiser, more human, and in a world filled with so much hurt, couldn’t we all do with being a little more human?”
Roxie sniffed, swiped at her cheek. “I do love him, don’t I? It hurts to think about a life without him… But what if he hurts me?
What if he breaks my heart, what then?”
Her aunt’s face lit up, the blue eyes glittered, and she whispered, “But what if he doesn’t?”
Chapter 15
The delivery arrived the afternoon after she talked to Aunt Cecilia. It was from Rhyder with a note that read, I’ve decided to give you time and space. I’ll call you in a few days unless you want to talk before then.
Rhyder.
She sorted through the box, pictured Rhyder selecting each item. Did he point and click to a virtual cart or had he visited the stores himself? Hard to tell with a man who kept his feelings hidden much of the time. How difficult had it been to admit he loved her? Had he battled with himself, fought the admission for days? He could not have wanted to tell her he was wrong—that love did exist and emotions were real.
The box contained honey crisp apples, Bartlett bears, a container of blueberries, steel-cut oatmeal, slivered almonds, and two bags of spinach. Only Rhyder would send a gift that included spinach. Tucked between a package of whole grain bread and a pair of striped slipper socks was a box of milk chocolate marshmallows dipped in coconut. He must care about her if he picked out milk chocolate since he swore dark was the only chocolate worth eating and coconut tasted like sugar-coated plastic. Oh, life was so complicated. Love even more complicated still. Aunt Cecilia had told her if she wanted true happiness, she had to open her heart and embrace what lay inside.
C.C. had told her pretty much the same thing, reminding her what life had been like when she and Ian had their issues. At least Rhyder knows you’re pregnant and wants the baby, she’d said. Yeah, that was true, but she hadn’t acted grateful for that or his profession of love. Was she really going to let fear of getting hurt own her for the rest of her life?
She and Rhyder had changed these past several weeks in ways she would never have thought possible. Sure, he was still too full of himself but if she looked close enough, she noticed the teasing behind his comments, the way his eyes sparkled just a hint when he jabbed her and the dip in his voice when he said her name. Affection. Love. Commitment. They were perfect together or they could be if she would only open her heart. He said he wanted forever, and she’d pushed him away, but he hadn’t disappeared. No matter how cranky or miserable she was to him, he understood her, understood who she really was and loved her in spite of it.
All he’d asked was that she loved him back.
Could she not do that?
Roxie ripped open the package of chocolate marshmallows, shoved two in her mouth and sent Rhyder a text. We need to talk. Be at your office by 2. Thanks for the package…and the note. Then she stacked five marshmallows in the palm of her hand, snapped a picture, and sent it to him.
At 2:02 p.m., Roxie breezed through the doors of Woodford & Remington. “Hey, Jenna. How’ve you been?” She smiled at Rhyder’s assistant, pointed to the woman’s pink and black striped blouse. “Very nice. I like it.”
“Thank you. Rhyder actually complimented me on it, but he’s been doing that a lot since you came into his life.” She pointed toward the closed door, lowered her voice. “He’s already checked three times to see if you were here. You can go on in.”
Roxie laughed. “Thanks, Jenna. Two minutes past the scheduled time is definitely a record and what I would call on-time in my language.”
Jenna nodded. “That’s pretty much what he said.”
Roxie dug into her bag, pulled out a milk chocolate marshmallow, and handed it to her. “Enjoy.” Then she cleared her throat and moved toward Rhyder’s office, knocked twice and waited.
“Come in.”
She opened the door, slipped inside and closed the door behind her. “Sorry, I’m a few minutes late—” she shot him a glance, smiled “—I was only two minutes late but then I started talking to Jenna and you know I can never just say hello and goodbye.” The words rolled out in a jumble and she tried to slow them down but nerves took over and more words spilled out. “I gave her one of my marshmallows.” She dumped her jacket, handbag, and the gift bag on the chair next to his desk and sank into the other. “So that’s why I’m later than I would have been, but you should still take that as a compliment because I don’t adjust my internal clock for just anyone.”
He started to stand, hesitated, then eased back into his chair. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Why was he studying her like she had food on her face? Did she have food on her face? She swiped at her mouth and chin. “Do I have chocolate on my chin?”
“No chocolate.”
He stared at her lips in a way that gave her the jitters—good jitters that swirled through her and had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with kissing...and touching...and... She pinched herself so she could focus and smother images she had no business thinking about right now, but when she looked at him...looked at his mouth...his hands...
“Roxie?”
Listened to that voice...
“Roxie?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” He studied her, frowned. “You’re flushed. Your breathing is short and choppy. Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m fine.” She drew in a long breath, blew it out nice and slow. “See, no breathing problems.” For goodness’ sake, she was not about to confess she’d been thinking about him and his delicious body parts.
“Okay then...” His gaze shifted to the bag on the chair beside her jacket. “What’s in the bag?”
Roxie placed the gift bag on the desk, eased it toward him. “For you.”
His brows pinched together, his cheeks turned pink. “This really wasn’t necessary. I sent you the package because I wanted to make sure you got your fruits and I selected the almonds because they contain healthy fats and, of course, I couldn’t forget the milk choc—” He stopped, the blush shifting to maroon.
“I loved the chocolate marshmallows. And don’t worry, I did not eat the whole box.” She grinned, held up three fingers. “I stopped at three.”
“Of course you did.” He peeked into the bag, pulled out the items one by one. “Oolong tea.” A nod, a tiny smile. The next item followed. “Architectural Digest.” He studied the magazine, set it aside, and reached for the third item. “Peppermint oil for my headaches. Good choice. You’ve been paying attention.”
Yes, she’d been paying attention to a lot of things about the man, even when she’d been trying to ignore him. “I remember how you dabbed a cotton ball with peppermint oil and rubbed it under your nose. You said it helped your headaches.”
“That’s right...I did say that.”
“I tried to find a magazine on indoor organic gardening, but I ran out of time. I thought about checking out another bookstore, but then I would have been really late and well, I thought that might not be a great idea...considering...”
“Considering?”
Roxie slid him a smile, reached in her handbag, and pulled out a dark chocolate salted caramel candy bar. “Considering I wanted to be on my best behavior and that meant don’t be late.” She unwrapped the candy bar, handed it to him.
“But you were late.” He accepted the candy bar, broke off a piece, and handed it to her.
“You know I am not a fan of dark chocolate.” She took the piece, popped it into her mouth, chewed. “But it’s not bad when it’s mixed with salted caramel. Actually, it’s almost good.”
“Exactly.” Rhyder broke off a piece for himself. “Imagine that?” He plunked the dark chocolate in his mouth, smiled as he chewed.
“I think I need one more piece to decide if I really like it or if you persuaded me to like it because it’s one of your favorites.”
He handed her another piece, his expression serious. “I’m sure I can’t persuade you to think or do anything you don’t want to do.”
Roxie savored the second piece of chocolate, let its rich saltiness jab her senses. “That is so not true. You, Rhyder Remington, are a great persuader even when you aren’t trying to be one.” She let out a tiny sigh, folded her hands ove
r her belly. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in days… Not since she and Rhyder had their falling-out. If he had a couch in this office, she’d curl up on it and take a nice long nap...with the sound of jazz in the background...and Rhyder next to her...
“Roxie?”
“You should think about getting a couch in this office. You could take power naps, meditate, curl up with a book.”
“What?”
He blew out a long sigh, a sign she’d learned to identify as his way of trying to hide his irritation. Except she was on to him and his signs. What was he irritated about? Was it her suggestion, or was it her? “You don’t like that idea?” She sat up straight, waited for another sigh.
He shook his head, his voice tense. “It’s a great idea if I could actually relax.” Another sigh. “But I can’t.”
Because of her. She’d done this to him, created havoc and stolen his calm and it was up to her to make it right. “What I’m trying to say and having no success is that I want you in my life and not just because you’re the father of this baby, but because you’re you. You make me believe that I don’t have to be perfect or wonderful or even have all the answers. I don’t even have to gravitate toward the bizarre and outrageous unless I want to. Roberta Revito was a poser who almost destroyed the person I really was: Roxie. Maybe I went to such extremes so I’d never be compared to a brilliant astrophysicist again. I could make my own choices, but that had its own problems because I was so afraid of getting hurt or showing my true feelings that I kept them buried.”
Rhyder continued to stare, jaw tense, hands resting on his desk. So detached… So precise… So unlike the man she’d come to know and love, the one who’d massaged her back while she threw up in the toilet, fixed her tea and toast, had planned to read poetry to their unborn child.
Rhyder cleared his throat. “I wasn’t completely truthful with you and for that I’m sorry.”
