Casual Affair (Timid Souls Book 2) (11 page)

I shook my head. “No. I didn’t know what to say. I was leaving and I was afraid that saying anything would just make it worse.”

My father sighed and chuckled. I didn’t find my suffering funny, so I didn’t know what the hell he was laughing about. “You’re making this far more complicated than it needs to be, lad. You love her, you miss her, you’re miserable without her. So, go back to her.”

What?

“I can’t do that,” I protested, words sputtering out of my mouth. “You’re here and—”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he interrupted, pointing his finger at me, his eyes sharp and narrowed in my direction. “You’ve put your life aside in order to help me out over the years and that ends now. I’ve got Margaret now and I’m moving into a place I can afford. I’m a grown man, Zane. I can take care of myself and I’m going to be fine. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. You want to be with her, don’t you?”

I didn’t even have to think about that answer. “Yes, but I’d be living in the States.” Didn’t he understand how huge that was? That I wouldn’t be living
here
?

“Then, you’ll just have to bring her back here when you visit. And Margaret and I can always come there. I’ve always wanted to see New York.”

He smiled and I saw the man who raised me in that look. The man who took care of me even after his heart had been shattered. Who never gave up even when it was all he wanted to do.

“Take it from a man who knows,” he went on, his tone imploring me to listen to him. “You only get so many chances at love in your life, lad. Don’t pass up an opportunity when it’s just there waiting for you. You don’t know the kind of happiness you could be giving up, just because you’re afraid to move a few miles away.”

More like a few
thousand
miles away, but he was right.

What was I doing?

I knew for a fact that women like Bea didn’t come around but maybe once in a lifetime. And I was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“You’re right,” I said, my mind already whirling, deciding on a course of action.

He scoffed and stood up, heading back into the kitchen. “I know.” He stopped abruptly and spun back around to face me. “But you have to help me move first before you leave. Don’t think you’re getting out of that just because you’re in love.”

That was fine because I needed time to get all of my plans in order, anyway.

I’m coming for you, Bea.

And I won’t let you go this time.

##

Bea

If I thought that I’d been melancholy before, spending Thanksgiving back in Alabama with my family now had me downright despondent. Not that spending time with my family had been miserable. It had actually been a much-needed break from my life in D.C. because everywhere I went in this damn city reminded me of Zane.

But just being around all the people that I loved made my regret over losing him more poignant. He had been the one person missing.

The person I wanted with my heart and soul.

The one I
needed
, hadn’t been there.

Now, I just wanted to slip into a pumpkin pie coma and stay locked inside my bedroom until after Christmas.

I was planning to get started on that as I hauled my suitcase up the stairs to our townhouse. We had just gotten home from Alabama, the flight back into D.C. having been unbearable with a screaming baby in front of me and a man who wouldn’t stop complaining about everything under the sun behind me.

I was so sick of the world that I couldn’t even laugh at Felicity or make a joke as she struggled to pull her giant suitcase—the top of which literally came up to her waist—up our concrete steps. Four Felicity’s could have fit into that suitcase and I couldn’t even crack a smile.

My God, am I even the same person anymore?

I dropped my suitcase as soon as I stepped foot inside the door and headed straight for the wine rack. I had gone through so many bottles since Zane left that I lost count somewhere around fifteen. I couldn’t find the will to care, though.

I barely paid attention to the doorbell ringing as I poured myself a full glass, assuming Felicity would answer the door. We often got packages for the business delivered to our place, so I just assumed that was who it was.

It rang a second time but hell if I felt like dealing with anyone or anything except my own sorrows right then.

“Hey, Shortcake!” I yelled. “You want to get the door?”

No answer.

The doorbell rang a third time.

Even I had to admit that the grunt I released when I realized I was going to have to answer it sounded feral. I stomped across the kitchen and into the foyer in the most unladylike fashion, cursing the inventor of doorbells as I went.

God help the poor bastard standing there waiting for me to sign on the line because he was going to get a whole lot of angry Bea when I opened that door.

It didn’t help that I tripped over my own stupid suitcase in my efforts to trample the hardwood floor to death. I unleashed holy hell on that piece of luggage, kicking the crap out of it before I was eventually able to reach the doorknob.

I don’t think I ever mentioned that I had a bit of a temper sometimes.

All I wanted was to be left alone with my wine and my pity, thank you very much.

I whipped open the door with a huff of breath and fire in my eyes that I was sure would have made any man piss his pants…and then I almost pissed my own when I saw who was standing on my doorstep.

Zane Price.

My British crumpet—my English muffin—was standing there biting his lower lip with a nervous expression on his face. My anger evaporated in an instant at seeing him for the first time in almost two months.

“Hi,” he said softly, my heart melting at hearing his voice after so long.

I tried to keep my act of aloofness in place, like I had the last time I’d seen him because I wasn’t yet sure if his being here was a good or bad thing. And I didn’t want to be destroyed all over again if he left a second time. But it was hard to pretend like my insides weren’t fluttering around like crazy at seeing him.

It just felt so good to finally see his face again.

“What are you doin’ here?”

I’d assumed that he didn’t want to talk to me after I called him all those weeks ago and he never called me back. I figured that was the last nail in the coffin of our relationship and that I would never hear from him again. The last thing I expected was for him to just show up out of nowhere.

“I came to see you,” he answered. “Can I come in?”

His eyes were desperate and pleading as he waited for my reaction. A woman had to have sheer iron will to turn away a man like Zane when he looked at her like that.

And I didn’t.

But I was suddenly burning up and thought that I’d feel better standing out in the cool temperature. So, I stepped forward onto the top step, forcing him to take a step back, and closed the door behind me.

“We can talk out here.” I crossed my arms over my chest, wishing I had grabbed my jacket before I came out, and waited for him to speak.

He let out a deep breath and looked straight into my eyes. “I came here to apologize. For what happened before I left.”

If all he came here to do was say he was sorry in an effort to clear his conscience, I was prepared to kick him right off my front steps. I couldn’t handle that on top of everything else.

I shrugged, the action taking extreme determination. “Nothin’ to apologize for. You had to leave and you said goodbye. You didn’t owe me more than that.”

He made a move to come closer but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching in frustration. “Yes, I did. I owed you so much more than that. I owed it to you to tell you how I felt, and I’m apologizing for being too scared to say any of it.”

I wouldn’t have realized that I had stopped breathing if it wasn’t for the absence of white puffs floating in front of my face.

I could feel my body start to tremble but it wasn’t from the cold.

“H-How you felt?” I whispered, hardly managing to even get that out through my nerves.

His face softened as he took in my apprehensive expression. This time he did take a step forward, bringing himself directly into my personal space and instantly warming me up.

“Yes, how I felt. How I still feel.”

He took my frozen hands in his and rubbed them with his fingers, allowing circulation to once again flow. It felt as if that’s what he was slowly doing to my whole body, especially my fragile heart. Warming it up, rejuvenating it, bringing it back to life.

For the first time in months, hope was blooming inside my chest.

But I was terrified to believe in it.

“And…how do you feel?”

His smile was slow and purposeful, like memories were whizzing through his head and his smile got a little bigger with each one he remembered.

“Like there’s no point to my life if you’re not in it.”

My heart was beating so fast, I was sure he could tell what those words did to me if he just put his hand over it.

“I haven’t laughed in months,” he continued. “I’ve barely smiled. Because those belong to you. You own all of my laughs and my smiles. My happiness, you’re responsible for it. And I’ve come to ask if you’d be willing to take that responsibility on.” His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb caressing my jawline. “Because I miss laughing, Bea. I miss being happy with you.”

I had to bite down on my lip hard to contain all of the emotion that was threatening to burst forth. “I haven’t gone out once since you left.”

He didn’t miss a beat at my random statement. He always understood my quirkiness and he was always right there with me. He knew that I would eventually make my point, just usually in a roundabout way.

“I haven’t cared to go dancing or play sports or drink anything but wine. I’ve never had a problem with doin’ anything by myself. But after you left, all of a sudden I didn’t want to do any of it without you there with me. I didn’t care to have fun if it wasn’t with you.” I leaned my cheek into his palm, seeking that comfort and warmth. “I’m broken, Zane. This is me broken. And you need to fix it. Please.”

His smile was blinding. It was one of those moments where I expected dozens of white doves to suddenly burst into the sky all around us or a church choir to surround us and start singing “Hallelujah!”

But really, that smile of his and his strong arms wrapping around me were magic enough.

“I believe I can do that.”

We started to lean in for a kiss—something I had been craving since he took those first steps away from me in that park—but paused, my hands on his chest stopping his forward momentum.

“What about your father? Don’t you need to be there for him?”

Again with that smile. “He’s going to be fine. It seems that he fell in love, as well. He has a good woman taking care of him, so he doesn’t really need me anymore.”

I didn’t hear anything after that one word.

And he damn well knew it, the cheeky bastard.

“You’re in love with me?”

I hated that my voice had come out shaky, but I was lucky that my legs were still able to hold me up after the shock that sentence had delivered.

“Oh, didn’t I say that?” He didn’t even try to stifle his laughter.

I smacked his chest but couldn’t contain my laughter either. “No, you didn’t.” My eyes went downcast, concentrating on the crack in the cement as I asked in a small voice, “But you are?”

His finger lifted my chin, forcing my eyes to once again meet his and I was struck by the emotion in them. I would never be able to doubt his feelings after I saw the amount of both love and desire shining in those eyes.

“I am, Bea. And I want to stay here with you, if you’ll have me.”

“What about your job?”

“I’m going to resume managing the D.C., New York, and Atlanta branches over here. My boss was impressed with the spike in revenue at the three branches since I temporarily took over last year, so he was okay with me making it a permanent situation.”

It was everything I wanted to hear, but it was so hard to swallow. It was hard to accept that anyone would uproot their life for me like that. A part of me didn’t want to believe it was real, but the bigger part of me knew that Zane would never do anything to intentionally hurt me.

“And you’re okay with leaving your home like that? Leaving everything you know?”

I couldn’t stand it if he ever resented me for taking him away from his life in England. It would crush me.

His expression became stern as he stared down at me. I had almost forgotten how tall he was. I had to crane my neck back slightly to make eye contact.

“It doesn’t really matter where I live, as long as you’re there with me. Moving my possessions and switching jobs isn’t a big deal if it gives me you.”

It was that exact moment when two pigeons took off in flight from their perches on the stoop stairwell—only feet from our faces, making us both jump in surprise—and flew up into the sky. I had to laugh at the irony.

Apparently, the best I could do were pigeons.

They may not have been perfect white doves but Zane and I weren’t perfect…so the moment was perfect for
us
.

Either way, I took it as a sign.

He brought his mouth down to mine, joining our lips for the first time in months, although it had felt like years. He tasted the same way I remembered: like cinnamon and masculinity. This kiss felt different than any other we had ever shared before, though. This was even more intense, if that was possible. It was controlled by our deep emotions and fueled by our repressed desires for each other.

That passion between us hadn’t died out, not in the least.

In fact, it had only gotten hotter, flared brighter now. Our hunger for the other felt more necessary.

Because this was the first time we’d been given permission to claim each other. And I could tell it was having a very primitive, carnal effect on Zane and fulfilling a deep-seeded, long-since buried need within me.

I figured we should move the party inside when we started grinding against each other outside in broad daylight, with who knows how many homely old women and innocent little kids watching.

I pulled back and smiled at Zane’s kiss-swollen lips. “I love you too, you know.”

Those hazel eyes of his sparkled down at me. “I know.”

“Are we really doing this?”

He rested his forehead against mine and pulled me in tighter. “We really are, luv.”

##

“Come on!” I yelled at Felicity. “Move those short little stubs faster!”

“This is as fast as I go! Sorry, I don’t have freakishly long Amazon legs!”

My sister trailed after us as we all scrambled behind the makeshift shelter on the paintball field.

“I happen to love those freakishly long Amazon legs,” Zane purred in my ear, leaning in close to trail his tongue along my earlobe while his hand crept up my thigh.

Zane was the only man who had ever been able to make me blush. And apparently all it took was a few sexual comments in front of a group of his soccer buddies and my sister to do it.

“Gag,” Felicity mumbled not-so-quietly as she tightened her goggles, making the rest of the guys snicker.

I ignored her and smiled back at my boyfriend of two weeks, whispering everything I would do to him once I got him home later. When his face turned red, I knew it wasn’t from embarrassment. No, that was a tell-tale sign that he was getting turned on, which was confirmed two seconds later when he adjusted himself in his jeans.