From Now On (21 page)

But, of course, it wasn’t.

“Why are you here, Mark?”

He paused, his hand on another picture frame. This one was of Jack and his little Michelle, laughing together in a candid photo Jo had snapped during their visit a month ago. He studied the photo like it was a Monet, giving it his complete attention.

“I wish I could change so many things about what happened between us,” he said quietly.

“I don’t,” Jo said. She realized it was true as the words left her lips. Despite the hurt, she was glad for every moment they shared.

He turned and took her in, really looking at her for what she was sure was the first time. His eyes drifted from her eyes to her lips, her throat. He studied the lacy baby doll top she wore under a sheer cashmere sweater, the linen skirt with its modest slit up the side. He smiled slightly when he saw her bare feet. Then his eyes moved back to her face.

“You’ve changed,” he said.

“People change.”

“Not always.” He glanced at the door as though wondering if this had been a good idea. Again he dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know why this is so hard.”

“Mark—”

“I came here to tell you I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I never meant for things to end the way they did.”

Jo shrugged. “It wasn’t any more your fault than it was mine.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t come here to assign blame.”

“Then why are you here?”

Mark studied her face, tension building in his shoulders with every passing second. Jo reached up and brushed her hair from her shoulder, trying to imagine what it was that he saw. The subtle layers of makeup Emily had encouraged her to wear? The longer hair, cut in a soft bob that accentuated her natural curls? The new earrings she had bought herself last weekend?

“It’s too late, isn’t it?”

             
“For what?”

             
“I shouldn’t have come,” he said, his gaze dropping. “I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

             
Jo clenched her fists at her sides. “You’re right,” she said with a voice suddenly filled with anger. “You shouldn’t have come if all you’re going to do is run away.”

             
“I’m not—”

             
“You always run away.” Jo waved her hand, encompassing everything from his body pointed toward the door to the past. “You ran away after our first kiss, after that first night in my apartment. And you ran away the moment it began to look like we might have something. A future.”

             
“I did not. You’re the one who pushed me away.”

             
“Only because I could see you were on your way out the door.”

             
His eyes narrowed and Jo was sure that she had pushed him too far. She could see him leaving as if he had already slammed the door behind him. And it didn’t hurt any less than the last time. She was falling, crashing back to earth from the cloud of hope she didn’t even realize she had jumped on, in the same painful heap she had known so many times before. She was hurtling toward disaster and there was nothing to stop it.

             
Until her fall was broken.

             
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered as he slid his hands into her hair, his lips pressed against her ear. “I came here to fight for you, to tell you that a day hasn’t gone by in which I haven’t thought about you every waking minute. To tell you that I was a broken man until you, and without you I’m nothing but an empty shell.”

             
Jo melted in the familiarity of his touch, molding her body to his and finding it to be a perfect fit. A moan slipped from between her lips as she felt his heart pound against her, as her body remembered what it was like to be a part of this whole. That memory awakened so many others, not the least of which was the taste of his lips. So, when his mouth found hers, it was like coming home.

             
As they kissed, her heart soared again, lifting to a height that would be deadly should she fall again. She never wanted it to stop, never wanted this moment to end. But how could she ignore the danger? How could she pretend that so much had never happened? How did she silence the voice of doubt that so desperately wanted an invitation to this party?

             
“Mark,” she whispered, pushing at his chest. “We can’t just forget.”

             
“I know.” Mark pressed his forehead to hers, his breath bathing her face in soft puffs. “I know I hurt you.”

             
“It’s not just that.”

             
“Then tell me what you need me to say or do. I’ll do anything.”

             
Jo closed her eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I need.”

             
“I do.” Mark stepped back just enough so that she could see his face. A soft smile touched his lips as he traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip. “You need to know that you can trust me.”

             
Tears filled her eyes. “I thought you were the one with the trust issues,” she said with what she was afraid was less a laugh and more a sob.

             
He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her words. “It was. It might still be. But I think that’s a two way street.”

             
Jo stepped closer to him and hid her face against his chest. “So what do we do?”

             
“I think that’s something that comes with time.” Mark kissed the top of her head lightly. “All I know is that I’ve missed you like crazy. And I don’t particularly want to keep doing that.”

             
“I miss you, too,” Jo said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

             
“And I’m hoping I didn’t just uproot my kids and move them to Houston for nothing.”

             
Jo pulled back and stared up at him. “You did what?”

             
He shrugged. “When I jump into something, I jump with everything.”

             
“What about their grandparents? Their school?” Jo tensed as another barrier reared up between them. “What about Danielle?”

             
Mark lifted a hand to smooth the tension from her brow, but stopped before he could touch her. “It’s only an hour by plane. If their grandparents want to see Missy and Dillon, they know where we are. And there are schools here in Houston that are just as good as the ones in Dallas.”

             
“And Danielle?” Jo asked, unable to let him avoid the issue.

             
“Danielle will always be their mother, and, therefore, always be a part of our lives.” Mark shrugged. “With that said, Danielle has never been consistent in taking advantage of her visiting privileges and I don’t anticipating that changing any time soon.”

             
“I’m sorry,” Jo said. And she was. For him. For all the excuses and explanations he would have to make to his kids. But mostly for the kids. Jo knew what it was like growing up with a mother who was less than interested. No kid deserved that.

             
Mark took Jo’s hand, kissed her palm lightly, and drew her closer to him. “Can I ask you something?”

             
Jo slid her hand up his chest. “Anything.”

             
“What did Danielle say to you that day?”

             
Jo opened her mouth to respond, to tell him all the vicious, taunting things that Danielle had spouted that morning in Mark’s cubicle. But now, Jo saw Danielle in a different light and that stole the sting from the words. It didn’t matter how true Danielle might have thought the words were. They were her truth. Not Jo’s.

             
“It’s not important.”

             
“Jo,” he said, lifting her chin with his fist. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

             
“I’m not,” she assured him. “It just isn’t important anymore.”

             
“Okay,” he said after a second’s hesitation. “I trust you.”

             
“You better,” Jo said as she rose on tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Because a lot depends on it.”

             
He laughed against her lips. “I love you, Jo,” he whispered as the laugh turned into a contented sigh.

             
“I love you.”

             
“So, come on.”

             
Mark pulled away so quickly, Jo nearly fell in the absence of his solidity. “Where?” she asked as she grabbed the back of a chair for support.

             
“To meet my kids. Don’t you think it’s time?”

             
He stood there, a smile on his face, holding out a hand toward her. It was like the final moments of a dream. But when she reached out and took his hand, it was solid, strong. It was real.

             
And she couldn’t imagine anything better.