More Than Friends (Kingsley #4) (21 page)

“I’
m good
,
” he said.

She squeezed his fingers, and leaned her head against his shoulder as they fell into step together
.“
You are
n’
t
.
”

“
I will be
.
” Michael sighed
.“
I wo
n’
t say that was
n’
t weird though, because it was.
I’
m sorry
.
”

“
For what? I
t’
s the mall, Michael. I ca
n’
t fault you for not knowing in advance that sh
e’
d be here, or that sh
e’
d b
e
–“

“
Pregnant
,
” he sighed
.“
God, Renee. Sh
e’
s pregnant
.
” Hisheart was pounding so hard it hurt, and his stomach still had
n’
t released the grip of anxiety. Nicolette. He had
n’
t seen her since their last court date, and she had been beautiful. She had been beautiful today too, just as beautiful and glowingly pregnant as he had always imagined she would be. Except that it was
n’
t his, it was
n’
t his child in her belly, and he was
n’
t the man she would raise her family with. Pregnant. What if infertility had been a lie? He shook his head, discarding that thought even as a new one popped up to disturb him. She was
n’
t the type to li
e
– but she was
n’
t the type to have random sex either. How could she be pregnant and not know who the father was? Or did she just not want to say?
“
I do
n’
t even have words right now
,
” he said.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze that left Michael exhausted. Renee tried to distract him, and he did try to be responsive, but eventually she stopped trying so hard.

After the third pink shirt that Michael said was fine with him if she liked it, Renee shook her head in frustration
.“
Really, Michael
?
” she asked, planting her hands on her hips
.“
Pink? You hate pink; I only suggested it to see if yo
u’
d notice. Yo
u’
re not wearing a pink shirt to Xande
r’
s bachelor party
.
” Pulling the shirt Michael had been slipping back onto its hanger from his hands, she thrust a khaki colored plaid with green stripes into his grip
.“
Here, this is more like what yo
u’
d choose if you were paying attention
,
” she teased.

She was
n’
t in as teasing a mood after they went through the same cycle in an effort to choose his shirt and tie for the engagement party, but shopping for her dress for Harmon
y’
s combination bachelorette and twenty-first birthday party seemed to lift both their spirits. Michael was amused, watching Renee twist and twirl through the outer dressing room in each new selection, speculating on possible choices for shoes, bags, and accessories.

“
I think you might have done better with this with your sister
,
” Michael said at one point, having pulled her close to drop a kiss on her lips
.“
If you wear this dress, no one is going to notice even if you go barefooted
.
”

Giggling, Renee had tipped her head and glanced over her shoulder to see herself from the rear view in the mirror behind her
.“
I can guess why
,
” she had replied
.“
I
t’
s pretty short. Tha
t’
s a lot of thigh
.
”

“
Believe me, I noticed
,
” Michael had answered.

She went more conservative in her choice of a semi-formal gown for the engagement party, but was no less beautiful. Michael kept his mind on Renee, helped her choose her dress, and said all the right things throughout the day, but truth was, none of it mattered right then. He knew it would later, so he did it, but there was a pit in his stomach that attested to his inner turmoil.

He had spent three years getting over his divorce, getting over the pain of Nicolett
e’
s leaving. Three years of his life spent mostly at the bottom of a bottle, with intermittent visits to strange and sometimes random wome
n’
s beds. Three years trying to cover the wound, three years trying to heal. And in less than three seconds, Nicolette had sent him back to the beginning, back to the courtroom, back to the day h
e’
d come home to find her gone. Back to the frantic exchange of texts because she would
n’
t answer his calls. In less than three seconds, she had ripped away his hard-won progress, opened the festering wound. And walked away again.

Michael sighed with relief as he and Renee entered the restaurant the
y’
d chosen for dinner. Renee had three classes to teach at her yoga studio, and she had plans to go hom
e
– alon
e
– for the first time in their two weeks together. It would be the first night the
y’
d spent apart in the last two weeks, the first sexless evening, and the next morning would be the first one Michael would wake up to without Renee wrapped in his arms. But he was glad; he needed the time to think, to get his thoughts together. Time to begin healin
g
– again.

In fact, Michael might have chosen to go without dinner entirely if not for Renee; he did
n’
t care about food just then, or sodas, or dessert. What he wanted was a good stiff drink. Or twelve. But he sat through dinner and made appropriate small talk, hardly noticing how the spark slowly faded from Rene
e’
s eyes. By the end of dinner, she was somewhat reserved; he finally noticed when they pulled up together at Michae
l’
s house and Renee stepped out of the truck to unlock her car. Michael got out too, moving the seat forward to pull Renee's shopping bags out for her. But when he moved to kiss her goodnight before she left, she turned her cheek. He kissed the upturned cheek anyway, filled with guilt for allowing his mood to ruin their time together.

“
Kind of a weird day today, huh
?
” she asked quietly, bringing her hand up to rest against his chest. Michael nodded, tipping his head curiously, and she went on
.“
Look,
I’
m sure your mind is a mess right now, Michael, and
I’
m trying not to pry. But if you wanna tal
k
… then I wanna listen. I
am
still your friend, you know
?
”

"I know
,
” he answered, bringing his hands up to cup her face.She had asked a few times throughout the afternoon if he wanted to talk, and he had said each time that he was alright. She knew it was
n’
t true though, and he could feel the wedge his secrecy had placed between them. "I know yo
u’
re here to listen, and willing to hear me out, and that means more to me than I can tell you." He watched as her mouth twisted wryly, tracing the curve of her pouting bottom lip with the tip of one thumb. "It does. It's just weird to try to explain to you how she has me so messed up right now, because you do it too, in a totally different way. This ... whatever we're calling it ... it means something to me, Renee, and I am scared to death of messing it up.I do
n’
t want to lose this, too."

"Then don't," Renee answered. "But Michael ... this won't be what it should be if we can't be honest about things. Don't feel like just because we're having sex that we can't still talk like friends. Even about Nicolette."

"I know." Michael dipped his head and rested his forehead against hers.
“
I just need to get my head straight
.
”

She waited quietly for a moment, sighed, and stepped away. "I have to go. My classes are soon and I still need to get home and change." She did reach up once more to kiss his cheek, but then she settled into her car and was gone.

Alone, Michael locked his truck, gathered his own shopping bags, and headed through the dusk to the house. He needed a drink. The house was quiet as he walked in, the same as always, but this time Michael was grateful for the sense of peace. The day had been loud in every possible way, with his thoughts screaming for release and the rest of the world just going on as usual. The mall had been filled with the chatter of young children, their parents, couples talking quietly as they shopped, and people chatting on their cell phones as they traveled from store to store, and even the restaurant he and Renee had chosen for dinner had been filled with the din of constant chatter. Michae
l’
s blood was singing nervously in his veins, his muscles were strung tight as bowstrings along the lines of his body, and his head was pounding.

Goosebumps broke out over him as he made his way through the house, breathing deeply to take in the peace of the silence, and his hand sent little jolts of calm up through his arm as it clenched around the bottle he pulled from the kitchen cabinet
.“
Jesus, Nicolette
,
” he rasped, twisting the cap from the bottle
.“
Wh
y’
d you have to be pregnant
?
” His heart wrenched in his chest at the thought of her swollen belly.

Michael closed eyes that stung with sudden tears, bringing the bottle to his lips, and headed upstairs to his room, where he opened the balcony doors and stepped out into the deepening twilight. He had probably spent almost as much time on that small balcony as he had spent in the entire house; he had built it with his father and his brothers, designed it himself with a wife in mind before the final papers for the house had even been finished. He knew without looking that there was a bent nail head sticking out of the bottom of the railing on the far side, remembered vividly how funny it had been to watch Evan struggle to hit the narrow angle with an overlarge hammer. He had spent evenings sitting out here, or standing against the rail as he was now, looking out over the field as he wondered about the wife that would someday spend those moments with him.

And he had been filled with satisfaction when Nicolette had begun to spend those evenings beside him, sometimes sharing drinks, sometimes making love under the stars. He had proposed to her on their balcony, had rejoiced as she accepted. He had grieved there too, sinking to his knees with tears coursing down his face after she left.
Such a small space,
he thought, glancing around the little balcony in wonder. It was barely ten feet square, and yet so many of his memories rested there.

The jingle of his phone in his pocket drew his attention, and he bent to settle the bottle of rum between his feet before fishing his phone from his pocket
.“
Yeah
?
”

“
Well, tha
t’
s no way to greet your mother, Michael. Really
.
”

Smiling at the playful tone behind the words, Michael tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder and bent to retrieve his rum
.“
Hey, Mom. Ho
w’
reyou feeling
?
”

“
Like my son has a girlfriend and did
n’
t bother to call and tell me
,
” she teased
.“
Why is the mother always the last to know
?
”

“
Oh, lay off. You seemed like you knew before I did.
You
were questioning
me
about it weeks ago, remember
?
”

Eva laughed, the sound somehow making Michael ashamed of the bottle he had been bringing to his mouth. He lowered it, spinning to look around for the lid; once the bottle was capped, he headed through his room and down the stairs, still listening to the smooth, rich voice of his mother on the line.