A Model Romance (True Love Book 3) (7 page)

“Hello, are you awake?” I ask, trying to be quiet for both our sakes.

He moves a little, and opens one eye which he immediately slams closed.

“Jesus! What time is it?” he asks as he covers his face with the small throw that covers only a portion of his body.

“It’s one. This may sound strange, but what is your name and why are you here?” Screw propriety. When you wake up with a stranger in your house, questions need to be direct.

“I’m Will. I escorted you home because you were in pretty bad shape. I chose the short straw.”

I assume that means he lost. Oh my God, how bad was I?

“I’m sorry you had to do that. I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never needed babysitting before. I’ll pay for a cab for you to get wherever you’re going.” I’m so ashamed. I’m the oldest of the group, and they had to assign someone to make sure I made it home.

“It’s OK, I wanted to. I remembered you from the Embrace campaign. I did a couple of shoots with you. I live in Evanston, so I was the closest. Trust me, no need to apologize, I had a blast with you last night,” he says, rubbing his eyes and sitting up straight.

“Dare I ask, what that means?” I don’t think I want the answer.

“Can I get some water? I have terrible breath, I can smell myself.” I fill a glass from the tap, and return quickly. “Thanks,” he says. “Well, we started out at
ice
, that club down on Dearborn. You kept saying how much you wanted to dance, and you pretty much stayed out on the floor all night. Everywhere we went, we danced our asses off.”

Well, that explains why my legs feel like Jell-O, and why I have a swollen ankle this morning.

He continues, “You’re a lot of fun, Becca. I haven’t had a night like that in a long time. We all said our goodbyes around four. By the time you and I went to eat, we were waiting for the six-thirty train back. You don’t remember any of this?” he asks with a little laugh. I can’t believe how out of practice I am with all of this. I liked to party before Harrison and I got together, but he wasn’t much on going out so I stopped.

“The commuters this morning didn’t look too happy to be around us; I guess we reeked. Stale booze and cigarette smoke isn’t the most pleasant smell on a Monday morning. They seemed particularly peeved at you for screaming on the train.”

“What? Why in God’s name would I have been screaming on the train?” What could I have been thinking?

“When we got on, one of your baby-shop ads was pasted up in our car. You and a baby. It’s a cute photo, but you saw it, ran up and started kissing it. You were shouting, ‘Baby Lou! Baby Lou!’ it was pretty freaking funny. Garnered some very interesting looks. Let’s just say you looked a little …
different
than you do in that ad, and people didn’t know it was you. They just thought some crazy lady was screaming at a baby named Lou.” He smiles, and downs his water. He gets up to go to the bathroom. I pray no one I know saw me this morning. I stand to take a hesitant look in the mirror, I know I don’t want to see what’s in the reflection: Jesus, even worse than I imagined.

My smoky eyes from last night look like two big shiners that go all the way to my chin. My once beautiful hair looks like a redheaded bird’s nest, complete with a family of pigeons living in it. I wait for Will to exit the bathroom so I can wash my face and pull back my hair. I’m so embarrassed. When I look and feel a little more presentable, I emerge from the bathroom. Will looks like he’s ready to go out again. Perfect hair, clothes don’t even look slept in. Men suck.

“Thank you for taking care of me and making sure I got home. I’m ashamed of needing it, but I’m grateful nonetheless. I’m just thankful I didn’t run into anyone I knew on the train.”

“You did, though. You don’t remember that either?” he asks, a little surprised.

“Who was it?” I ask, begging in my mind that it not be one of Katie and Melanie’s neighbors.

“I don’t know, you never introduced me. He walked over when you were making love to your ad. He was speaking quietly to you, and you calmed down. The two of you sat and talked for the remainder of the ride. He was hot, tall and built: Just my type. Look, I really need to go. Thanks again for last night, and please let me know when everyone’s doing it again, I’m in for sure.”

He must have called a cab, because there’s one waiting at the curb. He can’t leave yet: I need more information!

“I need to know who this guy was. I didn’t say anything about him? Give me some details!”

“I’m sorry, Becca, I didn’t hear your conversation. We got off the train, and you didn’t say anything about him. Gotta run, take care!”

And off he goes. I sat and spoke with someone I “know” for half an hour on the train? Who the hell would I know going from downtown to here so early in the morning?

Chapter 6

I go over to Mel’s on Wednesday, after spending the rest of Monday with my head in the toilet, and all day Tuesday recovering from Monday. If memory serves, I prayed to every deity I’ve ever heard of to let me die. I believe I also swore to never touch the stuff again. It’s been a really long time since I’ve felt that way, and I have no plans of repeating any time soon.

I love the way Mel’s home makes me feel. My place is chic, but not really lived in. It looks more like something out of a catalog. She greets me at the door with a squirming baby.

“Here, take her. She’s worn me out this morning. I feel like she went from crawling to running overnight!” she says, while throwing Lou into my arms. Lou tries a backbend to get free, and I almost drop her.

“Shit!” I exclaim, as I barely keep my grasp on her cotton pajamas.

“Th-it…th-it…th-it…”

Uh-oh. She into copying now, too, I see.

“Thanks, Bec. Anymore bad habits you want to throw her way? She’s like a magnet for every bad thing we do or say. Brian slammed his finger in the drawer last night, and I can’t even repeat what she picked up from him, mostly because she’ll try and say it!” Mel looks exasperated. Makes me feel a little better about the weekend. It seems I’m not the only one this little nugget can tire out.

Mel puts her in the high chair, that still has the knot in the belt, and secures her with her robe sash.

“It works better, and I can untie it. So, how was Sunday? What did y’all do?” she asks, as she offers the still squirming Lou some oatmeal.

“We had fun, I guess. My friend, Mandi, invited a few people and we went out. Ever hear of Ice?”

She laughs, “That real pretentious place on Dearborn? Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Never been, but some of the younger players frequent it. It’s supposed to be
the
place these days. And, what do you mean, ‘you guess’?” She releases Lou from her confinement, and the baby runs to the living room to play with her toys.

“Well … I kind of blacked out. I don’t remember much beyond that place. We were out all night, and then Will - he’s a model - rode the early train back with me.”

“Really? That’s not really like you, is it? I guess I’ve never been around the party girl, but I can’t even imagine you that drunk. That’s a good explanation for why you look like crap.”

“Thanks, thanks a lot,” I say, acting like I’m mad. Even though she’s right, it still hurts. I have no color in my face at all, and my eyes are bloodshot from vomiting. I’ve had better days. “One thing is weird, other than the fact that I have no recollection of about eight hours of my life. Will said that I spoke with a guy I seemed to know, or at least he knew me, on the train.”

“Why is that so weird? You usually talk to anyone. He probably recognized you, and you were being friendly,” Mel kindly says. She’s trying to ease my shame, and I love her for it.

“Apparently, when we got on the train, I acted like an ass. One of the ads featuring me and Lou was on the train, and I guess I was talking to her, and kissing the poster.”

“OK, that’s weird, Bec. I’m not gonna lie. How did it look?”

“Really, Mel?
That’s
your question? I don’t even
remember
doing what I’m talking about; how could I remember that? Anyway, the guy started talking to me, and he calmed me down. We sat and talked the rest of the way back. Who in the world would I know coming from the city at that time of the morning? We got off at the same stop, too. I’m just praying its not one of your friends or neighbors. I would die of embarrassment.”

“Any description? I know you don’t remember, but did Will say anything?” Mel asks with a furrowed brow. I know she’s thinking.

“Yes, Will is gay so he noticed the guy’s looks. Tall, taller than me, with dark hair.  He said he was built, too.” I hope that rings a bell for her, but really it could describe just about anyone.

“I’ll ask Brian. Maybe it’s someone who’s seen you with us, and Brian knows him. Not sure why someone would be on the Monday morning train that early coming this way though. Unless, of course, he had made some bad decision too the night before!” She cackles, and we hear Lou from the other room copy her. I run to give her a squeeze.

* * *

Thanksgiving is approaching, and Mel and I decide we need to plan. Our parents are coming into town, and so is Brian’s dad. She’s asked me to come over this morning, and I assume that’s what we’ll be doing. I’m looking forward to it. This is the first Thanksgiving we will all have together since we were little.

I let myself in the front door, and Brian and Mel are sitting on the couch.

“In here, Bec,” Mel says quietly. I assume Lou is sleeping.

“What’s up? Where are the kiddos?”

“Have a seat, Becca. Is there something you’d like to tell us about the weekend you watched the kids? With Lou, in particular?” Melanie asks, looking down into her coffee cup as she takes a sip.

Oh. My. God.

I break out into an anxious sweat, and tears squirt from my eyes, “I’m so sorry, Mel! I only turned my back for half a second and she was gone… I’ve been sick about …” I get interrupted.

“What the
hell
are you blabbering about? You
lost
Louise?” Melanie looks furious.

Double shit.

“What are you talking about? What do
you
think happened when I was watching her?” I’m trying my best to cover my tracks, and I think I may have offered up a little too much information. She’s pissed.

“No, Becca, why don’t you tell me what the hell you’re talking about?” She’s yelling and Brian pats her leg to try to calm her down.

“Bec, we met the guy from the train,” Brian says sweetly, while continuing to soothe the beast that is Melanie.

“No, Brian, no. I want to hear what the hell happened first!” Melanie’s nostrils are flaring, I’d better fess up.

“I was in the coffee shop, and I had to set her down for just a second, to grab my wallet. She went outside, and a policeman found her. She was fine, but I wasn’t. It took me a while to get over that. Mel, I was so upset and I was too scared to tell you about it. I’m so very sorry.” I go over to both of them, and hug them tight. When I pull back, Brian is glaring at Melanie.

“Go ahead, put the poor girl out of her misery,” he says with a little smile as he nudges Mel in the ribs.

“OK, OK. I lost her today, too. Brian and I were in the mall trying to get a little early Christmas shopping done. He went into one store, while I was pushing the stroller and staring into a store window. When I looked down, she had escaped. That’s how we met your friend.”

“Really, Mel? You put me through hell while you did the same thing? Wait, what friend are you talking about?”

“What I wanted to tell you, is that we met the guy who you talked to on the train,” Melanie says, appropriately reprimanded.

I’m totally confused. How in the world would they know who I spoke to, if I can’t even remember? Oh no, I must have been right; it was one of their friends. It does make sense, though. I don’t think I would have spoken to a compete stranger for that long.

“Well? Who is he? Does he live here in the neighborhood?” I go to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.

“No, he doesn’t.” Melanie pauses.

“Are you going to make me beg, Mel?”

“OK. I’ll start at the beginning. Like I said before, we were in the mall, and little Miss Lou got away from me. I ran in the store and called to Brian to come and help me look for her. After a few harrowing minutes, a man walks up with her in his arms. She was happy and laughing when she saw us. He seemed hesitant when he looked at us, until it was obvious by her reaction that we were the parents.

He apologized, saying that he recognized her from the park and that he thought her mom was a redhead. Lou must have recognized him, too, because there is no way she would have let him pick her up. He mentioned that he had met the two of you in the park, and assumed you were her mom.
He
was the guy from the train. He remembered you, and was concerned about the shape you were in. He said he tried to calm you down, and that you were a little ‘excited’ was the term he used.  We spoke with him for quite a while; he’s a very nice person. He’s a public safety officer here in Glencoe.” A flash of awareness crosses her face. “He must have been the same one who rescued her the first time! Brian, we owe this guy for saving our baby twice!”

She turns back to me.

“Becca, we have to go and thank him. I’ll make some cookies or something, and you and I will bring them up to the station. It’s the least we can do, especially since he didn’t rat you out. He only mentioned that he met you in the park; he didn’t say how.”

I remember him now; the memories come flooding back. I have never been so scared in my life. I was so rude, not even saying thank you to him. Mel’s right. We do have to express our gratitude.

“Did you get his name?” I ask, knowing we should probably call to make sure he’s on duty when we go there.

“Yes. Wickham Dunmore. Did I happen to mention he also has a brogue? It’s slight, as if he’s trying to mask it, but it’s there. Very Scottish.”

Now that I think about it, when he spoke to me that day, I did hear it in his voice. He must think we’re the worst family. I lose the baby, Melanie loses her, and he sees me drunk and acting like an idiot on mass transit. Even worse, that’s when he still thought I was the mom. I can only imagine what he must have been thinking that morning.

“OK. When do you want to go?”

“Let’s go on Wednesday. I’ll make some pies; they can have them for Thanksgiving. I’ll call ahead to make sure he’ll be there,” she says, her typical Melanie determination driving full speed ahead.

* * *

Since I have no real skill in the kitchen, Melanie did all the work. She made four pies and a couple of dozen cookies to bring to the station. She also called ahead to confirm that he was on duty. I’m a little nervous. I had a half-hour conversation with this person of whom I have zero recollection. There’s no telling what I said. I should also thank him for calming me down so I didn’t get arrested on the morning commuter train. How humiliating that would have been.

We pull up outside the station right before lunchtime. The small downtown is buzzing with visitors and shoppers, Thanksgiving being tomorrow. When we walk in the front doors, I’m hit with an incredible smell. It’s either chili or soup of some kind simmering on a stove. A female officer greets us warmly, seeing the food, and invites us in.

“Hi! Can I help you?” she says as she eyeballs our dessert-laden arms.

“Yes, thank you,” Mel says, as she passes two of the pies over to her. “These are for the whole station, but we’re really here to see Wickham. Is he free?”

“Goodness, thank you. Whatever he did to deserve all this must have been pretty special. Hey, Wick! You have visitors!” She motions for us to follow her into the kitchen.

We put down our goodies, and she invites us to sit. I look up, and I see him walking toward us. I recognize his body, but I never got a chance to really see his face. He was wearing sunglasses the first time we met, and I don’t remember the second encounter at all. Wow, is he gorgeous. He looks like he should be in one of those firemen pin-up calendars. Broad shoulders, dark wavy hair and a chiseled face. He could model in a second. He gets closer and I have a flash of recognition when I see his eyes. They’re a beautiful bright green, and I sense that I remember this from talking to him on the train. Something just feels familiar and comforting about them.

He smiles when he sees Melanie, and then he looks over at me and his face seems to light up when we connect. He has deep dimples, and I remember those, too. He must have made quite an impression on me for these memories to be coming back from my blackout. God, my blackout: I feel my cheeks flush with shame thinking about how I must have looked that morning. That was the last time he saw me.

“’Ello, Melanie,” he says with his chopped accent, “it’s so nice to see you. How’s the wee one?”

Dear God, I’m melting in my seat. I see what Melanie was talking about with his accent. It’s definitely there, but he’s trying to hide it. If there’s anything in the world more appealing that a hot man with a Scottish accent, it doesn’t come to mind right now.

“She’s just fine, Wickham, thank you for asking. Don’t you worry, we know just where she is!” Mel laughs at our painful history of losing her child and him finding her not once, but twice.

“She’s a beauty, she is. I can see that good looks run in the family,” he says, staring into my eyes. I feel sweat begin to bead up on my neck and chest. The crappiest part of being a redhead: emotions show on your skin pretty quickly. My face has to be redder than it was before. It’s burning, so I try to cool it off by jutting out my bottom lip and giving a quick blow. It musses my bangs, but I don’t care. I must look like I’m sitting in a sauna.

“You remember my sister, Rebecca, don’t you?” Mel asks with a bit of a giggle. Neither time that we met would I consider myself at my best.

“Of course. ‘Ello Rebecca.” He clears his throat like he’s attempting to erase the words. “I mean, Becca. You introduced yourself to me on the train with that name, then you said you hated it. Asked me to call you Becca.”

He offers his hand for me to shake. I place mine in his, and it’s warm and rough. Just the way a man’s hands should feel.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wickham. Well, I mean, for real this time.” I sound like a bumbling idiot. I feel so many emotions right now, not the least of which is pure lust. I’m embarrassed, and ashamed as well. “I’m sorry if I was a little out of it when we met on the train. I had been out with friends the night before. That’s not something I do on a regular basis.”

Mel chimes in.

“Yeah, she’s only an amateur alcoholic. We came here today to say thank you for all you’ve done for us. You were kind not to rat out my sister that she had lost Lou that day. I guess I can’t say much on that subject myself, but we felt like we owed you a family apology and a thank you. I am a much more responsible parent than it would appear. My husband, Brian, also sends his thanks and he has invited you to come to the Bears next home game if you’re free.”

I never heard Brian say any such thing. I know what she’s doing, and I don’t mind in the least. In fact, I’ll hug and kiss her when we leave.

“I’m generally off on Sundays, and I’d love to do that. I’m a big fan of the Bears and your husband. Do you go to the games?” he asks, looking at me again.

“I do. Usually I go to help with the kids so Melanie can focus on watching the game, but I
do
love football.”

He continues to stare at me, and his eyes pierce into my soul. He looks thoughtful as he takes in my face. It almost feels out of place to have such an intimate connection in such a public setting. I know Mel is taking it all in as well. She doesn’t miss a thing.

He walks us out to the parking lot to say goodbye. Melanie hops in the car quickly, and he and I are standing alone on the sidewalk. I’ve regained some of my composure, so I feel a bit more at ease.

“Thank you, again, for everything you’ve done. I’m really embarrassed for my behavior on the train. Even though I don’t recall it, my friend tells me you were very kind. I wish I could remember our conversation,” I say quietly, I don’t want anyone walking past to overhear that humiliating story.

“Trust me, Becca, it was my pleasure. I have to admit, when I ran into your sister, I was grateful to find out that you weren’t Lou’s mother. You talked about her endlessly, and after seeing the two of you together the first time we met, and then in the ad on the train, I just assumed you were married.” His eyes sparkle as he speaks.

“No, just the aunt. Not married, no kids, just me.” I couldn’t be throwing innuendo at him any harder if I tried.

“Well, given that bit of good news, may I take you to dinner sometime?”

Yes!

“I’d like that.” I pull one of my business cards out of my purse, and hand it to him. “My cell and email are there. Give me a call.”

“I will. Thank you for the sweets, and for coming by. I was really hoping we’d run into each other again. I’ll speak to you soon, Becca.”

“OK, Wickham. It was very nice to finally meet you properly.”

“You can call me Wick,” he says, and leans in to formally kiss my cheek, very formally. His breath is warm, and he smells so manly. My pheromones are flowing like Niagara Falls.

I leave him with a smile, and get in the car. He stays in place and watches as we drive away. Whoa.

Melanie can’t help herself, she begins to babble almost the second we depart.

“Jesus, Becca! He is even more gorgeous than I remembered! He is very smitten with you, I can tell. What did he say? Did you like that I asked him to a game?” Her stream of verbal consciousness continues the entire way home. I’m in a dream state, barely registering anything she’s saying. I don’t care, I want to sit quietly and ponder the memory of his gorgeous face.

Chapter 7

Wickham and I have been texting and talking on the phone a lot over the last week. The Bears have a home game on Sunday, so we’re making plans to go. We haven’t been able to have a one-on-one date yet due to his work schedule. All the public safety officers are trained as police, firefighters and paramedics, but most of his background in is firefighting, and that seems to be where his allegiance lies.