Restoration & Forgiveness (Renovate Book 2) (10 page)

"If I knew she didn't love the city and her job so much I would let her. She reminds me so much of her mother; she's so sensitive to everything around her."

I'm not sensitive. Am I? Maybe a little, I guess.

"I know she is, but it's who she is, it makes her who she is." Keegan speaks with so much warmth that my heart beats wildly inside my chest.

"Do you truly love her, Keegan? I mean, I know you were just kids when you left and hurt her, but things are moving fast with you two, and if you can't give her all of you, then you might want to rethink what you're doing."

Seriously, are they pulling my leg? They can't possibly be having this deep conversation with me right here. Actually, they shouldn't be talking like this to one another at all.

"I've loved her forever, even before I knew her. I would do anything and everything for her. One thing you don't have to question is my feelings for your daughter. Look at her, she's an angel, she's perfect in every way imaginable, and the one thing I can't bear is to see her hurt and unhappy."

Hearing his confession, I think my heart is going to beat out of my chest. Saying that to my father is so strange, but also like he's proclaiming his devotion for me. Anyone would think I'm crazy not to want to be with this man.

"You said that without any doubt or hesitation. I trust you with her, but just be careful. I can tell something is going on with you two. If she wanted me to know she would tell me, so just be careful and take care of her for me."

Why is he so perceptive? The last thing I want is for him to find out I've been lying to him. This was a test for Keegan and he passed with flying colors. He's proved in all the ways that are important that he loves me. A lone tear escapes my eye.

"I promise," he says.

He walks out of the room and gently closes the door. When I don't hear his footsteps anymore I turn toward my dad, wiping my eyes free of the tears that I have just let fall.

"Was that necessary?"

"You're up?" He acts surprised, but I know he knew I wasn't sleeping. There is no way he would have talked so freely about me otherwise.

"Like you didn't know."

"Me? I was just passing time having a pleasant conversation with your guy."

He thinks he's being cute, but my heart is so heavy right now that it must have fallen to my feet.

"You made your point, I get it. Okay?"

"That's the thing Aimee, I don't think you get it. I know you, and I don't expect you to tell me everything, but that man just told your father that he would do anything for you. He didn't even flinch, and you know what, the entire time he couldn't take his eyes off you. It's how it's always been, and you do the same exact thing. I just want you to be happy, like I was with your mother."

That does it, because now I'm sobbing into my father's chest. He gets it, all of it. I should have known he knew I wasn't sleeping. I could never put anything past him, but what would happen if he actually knew what happened back in New York? Would he be so team Keegan?

Of course he would, because to tell you the truth, after hearing all that I may be on team Keegan too.

***

After my little breakdown I clean myself up and erase all traces of tears. I put on my pajamas and head downstairs in search of dinner.

I stop in my tracks when I find Keegan doing the dishes and cleaning up. I've seen him do the dishes before, but this time he has the radio on and is moving with the music. The way he's moving his hips is enough to drive me wild. I think my libido is in constant alertness whenever he is near. It can't be normal, right? Here I am standing in my old yoga pants that are two sizes too small and an old faded tank top.

Then there's him, wearing jeans that sit just right on his hips, and a t-shirt that fits him perfectly.

He's beautiful in every way.

I clear my throat, and he quickly turns around. If I'm not mistaken his cheeks flush a little red. Is he embarrassed?

"Don't stop on my account, please." I smile flirtatiously.

I know I'm playing with fire, but I just can't help myself.

"If you're lucky, I may show you more later," he teases.

My stomach drops at his insinuation. He must see the change in my mood because his smile instantly disappears.

"Hungry?"

"I'm starving, actually."

He places the dishtowel over his forearm as if he's a maître d'. Pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, he motions me to sit.

"Thank you, kind sir."

After pushing my chair in, he places a wine glass, plate, and silverware as well as a napkin on my lap. I'm enjoying this game a little too much.

"Would you like some wine, ma'am?" he asks.

"That would be lovely, sir."

While he is pouring the wine he winks at me, shooting pleasant warmth through my entire body. Didn't I just say I wasn't going to drink again? And here I am, accepting a glass from him.

He serves me dinner, a delicious and healthy-looking salad, chicken breast, and vegetables. He continues to clean up while I eat. I hold back a moan, because it's the best thing I've eaten in days.

He sits down across from me, staring straight into my eyes. I take a sip of the wine in hopes it will calm my sudden nerves. No such luck; I'll need the entire bottle for that, and I'd like to avoid a drunken repeat.

His elbows are placed on the table with his chin resting on his linked hands.

"What?" I finally ask.

"I like watching you eat."

Um, okay. That's not odd.

"I have something special for you."

I give him a quizzical look. He gets up and moves behind me, grabbing a pan that's covered with foil. I have no idea what is in it; I'm hoping for something delicious.

Keegan places the pan in front of me. Slowly he moves the foil back, and it's almost torturous. The smell of peanut butter and chocolate hits my nose.

"You made these for me?" I ask him. They're obviously not for my dad.

"Of course, what do you think I bought the chocolate and peanut butter for?"

I guess I didn't think about it. I'm so focused on keeping my distance that I'm missing these little gestures that in reality aren't small at all, but sweet and thoughtful.

"What are you waiting for? Go ahead, I know you want to," Keegan whispers in my ear.

"This is your mom's recipe for double-chocolate peanut butter bars?" I ask.

"The one and only, and I know how much you love them."

I do love them, and I immediately look over to see if this is the only pan, because I'm seriously planning on eating the entire thing.

"I can make more, if you finish this one off in two-point-five seconds. I see that rabid look in your eyes, Aimee, and frankly I might have to take a walk because it's seriously turning me on right now," he admits.

He can't talk like that, like everything is forgotten; it's just not the way things work.

They are already cut, so I grab one. I take a bite of the peanut chocolaty goodness, and it simply melts in my mouth. This is my absolute favorite dessert. Keegan's mom used to bake these constantly for us. I haven't tasted them in years. I've died and gone to dessert heaven, and I never want to come back. I moan when the full flavor hits me. I hear Keegan behind me growl, and then the back door close. I guess he needs that walk.

Is it awful that I'm elated to have this effect on him? One simple moan from eating a chocolate peanut butter bar, and he can't handle it.

I don't eat the whole pan, even though I'm tempted. I'm afraid I will get sick, and I'm sure Keegan would love taking care of me again.

There it is, another realization: I expect him to take care of me. He promised my dad that, but promises can be made and broken.

I finish cleaning up and check on my dad, who is out like a light. I'm on a sugar high, and am wide-awake. I decide to plant myself in front of the TV and search for a movie. I pull the afghan my grandmother made over me and get comfortable.

Footsteps follow behind me and turn around to find Keegan looking at me.

"You're back?"

He makes his way over to me. He looks into my eyes and I'm so mesmerized by their color, blue, the color of the sky on a clear day. They are wild and calming all at the same time.

He tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

"Of course I'm back. I'm not leaving, no matter how much you moan."

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

"Do you want to watch a movie with me? I haven't started one yet," I ask him hopefully. I want to do something else normal with him. The kinds of things that we enjoyed doing as friends.

I have no idea what I'm doing; the exact opposite of what I have been telling him. My dad isn't around; there is no reason to spend time with him. A part of me is ready to forgive him, but the part of me that he hurt is screaming at me to shut the door before it's too late. I'm afraid that ship has sailed; I've already invited him in, and he's crossed the threshold directly into my heart.

Keegan is staring at me now, and for a few moments I think he's going to say no. I think maybe this is too much for him.

"I'll make the popcorn, you pick the movie," he replies.

I go through the movies on the smart TV. I remember the last time Keegan and I watched a movie together here, we had to go through a shelf of my DVDs. He always let me choose though, and I am reminded that even as a teenager he put me first. What boy would suffer through hours of chick flicks?
The Notebook, Sweet Home Alabama, The Princess Bride.
Well, he won't admit it, but I know he loves
The Princess Bride;
there is swashbuckling and all.

I decide to go easy on him and pick a movie I know he'll enjoy, the new X-Men flick.

The smell of buttery popcorn wafts into the room, followed by Keegan walking in and handing me the bowl. He sits on the couch next to where my legs are stretched out. I sit up so he can get comfortable too, and place the bowl between us so that we are at a safe distance.

"This is what you want to watch?" he asks with a questioning look.

"What? I like mutants like any other girl."

"Yeah, okay, you like mutants if they were in a Nicholas Sparks movie," he jokes.

"Are you complaining? I think I saw
The Best Of Me,
we could always watch that."

He moves closer to me. I'm happy that the bowl of popcorn is between us because I'm afraid I would melt into him right now if it weren't.

"Um, no thanks, my mom made me watch that movie with her and she cried like a baby. You two should watch those movies together and share a box of tissues."

I imagine him watching that movie with his mom, and it makes me smile. Only his mother or I could get him to watch a Nicholas Sparks movie.

I start the movie and as the opening credits start, I grab a handful of popcorn, relaxing. I steal glances at him through the entire movie; it's hard to keep my eyes off him when he's near. I pray each time that he doesn't catch me, and we both laugh at the humorous parts of the movie.

It ends too soon, and at the same time we both ask if we want to watch another. This time Keegan gets to choose, and I replenish our popcorn bowl.

"You must really love me, to watch this?" He's picked one of the chickiest flicks known to man,
Pitch Perfect.

"No, not at all, I'm a closet a cappella fan. I may break out into song."

I laugh at him and shake my head, offering him more popcorn. He throws a piece up in the air and tips his head back, catching it in his mouth.

I consider doing the same, but know I would probably miss and it would hit me on the head. He was born as smooth as butter.

He starts the movie, and this time the bowl isn't between us. He grabs the afghan and places it over both of us.

I look at him curiously and my heart rate picks up, because now our bodies are touching, and the only thing I want to do is curl into him.

"What? It's drafty in here." He fakes an innocent look.

"Did this work on the other girls you dated?"

"Shhh." He puts a finger over my lips to quiet me. "It's started."

Our attention is focused on the movie now, and I'm glad he picked this. The movie always makes me laugh out loud.

Halfway through, I start dozing off. I try to keep my eyes open, but it's a lost cause. Keegan pulls my body against his, so we are spooning. His arms are holding me tight. He runs his fingers through my hair, and the feeling lulls me into a deep sleep.

"The only way I can be close to you is when I know you won't argue. I've been lost not being able to feel you against me. I'm not sure I could survive a life without you next to me, Aimee," he whispers in my ear.

Even asleep, the goose bumps appear all over my skin. He missed his calling and should be writing love songs. All of his confessions are like poetry, poems just for me. This man is going to destroy me one way or another, and I'm scared that I'll welcome it.

Chapter Eleven

When I wake in the morning there is no confusion about where I am or who I am cuddled up with. I knew the moment he whispered in my ears last night that I would wake up in his arms.

Keegan's grip on me is tight, like he's afraid that I'll try to escape. The rise and fall of his chest against me is soothing. As I lie awake, I recall the events of last night. His sweet words were my downfall. You would think that since I am sure of his feelings, we could continue our fairy tale. I wish it were that easy, but it's not. Do we need more time? Is this time we have here together enough for me to forgive him? This is why I need girlfriends, ones I can run to when I need advice, girls I trust. There's Reese, but hello, she's practically part of the James family now. A fact that is still so surreal to me.

Keegan is waking up. His breathing isn't as deep any longer, and his body is suddenly stiff, as if he's afraid to move and wake me.