Patrick's Promise (Cloverleaf #3) (8 page)

***

Amber

Amber fussed with her hair. Should be she put it up or leave it down? She had no clue what to expect that evening. Her nerves were a jumbled-up mess, her stomach in tangled knots. She shyly tried to apply mascara, which caused her to run the wand across her eye. She tried wiping and flushing her eyes out with water to remove the giant black smudge, but now her eyes were red and puffy. Great.

Her outfit was a whole different ordeal. It was warm again today, but she also didn’t know where they were going or what they would be doing. She should have asked more questions to get more of a sense on how to plan for this date. Amber stuffed her legs into a pair of jeans, but then instantly felt hot and uncomfortable, so she shucked them off, then tried on a skirt, but it just felt too fancy and dressed up. She wanted to make an excellent impression and really wow Patrick, but at the rate she was going she should probably just cancel. Amber huffed. She was beyond frustrated and annoyed, her nerves were shot, and she couldn’t find anything to wear that didn’t make her look fat. Everything was suddenly too tight or making her skin irritated. But worse, she was cranky.

Amber dove onto her bed, lying there with her face in her pillow. What was she even doing? Why was she putting herself through this torture? She had forgotten what it was like to dress up for a man, especially someone as delicious looking as Patrick. Her husband was a fine specimen as well but had nothing on Patrick. There was just something extra special about him; he had this mysterious aura, which he’d always had for as far back as she could remember. She was so out of her league here. Amber just wanted to scream into her pillow. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this? She should cancel.

***

Patrick

He eyed the clock; she was already about ten minutes late. Maybe she changed her mind. She did seem uncertain about the whole thing when he had asked. But she would’ve called, right? Patrick paced the kitchen, double checking that he had packed everything. It was like the fifth or sixth time he had checked, but he didn’t know what else to do while waiting for Amber.

Just when he was about to lose all hope, he heard his doorbell. When he opened the door, there she stood, her dark mahogany hair wrapped in a loose knot, several strands hanging near her neck, and he had to fight the urge to touch them. Her eyes were bluer today; her turquoise top enhanced their bright color. Her legs were tan against the off-white Capris she wore, but his attention was drawn to her ankles, where a thin gold chain surrounded one, and then to her feet, which were barely covered by thin strappy sandals, her toes painted a delicate shade of pink. Patrick had thought she was gorgeous the first day he laid eyes on her; now she was stunning, and he had to catch his breath.

“I’m so sorry, Patrick,” Amber apologized, her hand moving to her neck as she grabbed at the loose strands of hair. He could tell she was anything but comfortable, and he immediately wanted to reassure her.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’m glad you made it. Did you want to come inside while I grab everything?” Patrick offered. She nodded and stepped inside.

***

Amber

When she rang that doorbell, she had to do everything in her power not to throw up. She felt sick, then once Patrick opened the door and she was greeted with those enchanting eyes and seductive face, her knees went weak and she melted inside. Was this really happening?

He offered for her to come inside while he gathered some things. Well, now she knew they weren’t going to be eating there. Which was probably for the best, because the moment she entered into the large home, she was hit with a defining female presence. The home was beautifully decorated, and it was warm and inviting. But it shouted Beth. Amber felt almost as though she was entering another woman’s territory; it didn’t sit too well with her already nervous and queasy stomach.

“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable while I grab the stuff I packed.” Patrick started off toward the kitchen. The floor plan was open, so she could see the dining room and the kitchen from the living area.

Amber wandered slowly into the living room. There was an enormous fireplace, two dark forest green couches sat in an L-formation, and a large entertainment center stood proudly against one wall. Amber instantly imagined how nice it would be to sit on either couch; one was perfect for cuddling in front of a fire, the other for snuggling close to watch a movie. Her eyes gravitated to the large prints on the wall; they were scenic portraits of locations that looked very similar to Birch Valley. Upon closer inspection, Amber was certain that one, which showed a barn standing alone in a field, with some rugged hills as the backdrop, was for sure in Birch Valley.

“Patrick, these pictures are incredible. They look like Birch Valley,” Amber called out.

“That’s because they are. Beth took those.” He had entered the room, a large canvas cooler slung over his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

Amber took in a deep breath and smiled as Patrick ushered them out the door. The palm of his hand found the small of her back.
I could get used to this.

Chapter Eight

Patrick had insisted that they take his car, and as she climbed into the SUV, the reality of their date started to hit her. She was actually going out with a guy, someone who wasn’t Peter. It felt weird and a little emotional. After loading the food and a large blanket, she learned they were going on a picnic.

When they first started driving, there was some awkward silence, but Patrick tried to break the ice by telling a terrible joke that had them both laughing at his sad attempt. As they cruised outside of the main part of town, driving past the diner and the cozy little neighborhoods, they were soon on the single lane highway. They drove for almost thirty minutes until Patrick started to turn down a quiet country road, not much different than the one she had found herself stranded on. The asphalt turned into gravel, making the drive bumpy and loud. He pulled into an open meadow with tall grass. A small body of water shimmered in the distance; the spot was beautiful.

Amber got out of the car and offered to help carry something, but Patrick refused. He gathered everything and led them down a path that had been carved by wildlife going down to the water. There were several trees, mainly birch and a couple weeping willows. Patrick chose a large, flat spot that was partially shaded under an enormous willow but gave a magnificent view of the water. Patrick set the cooler down and fanned out the large blanket. The setting couldn’t be more romantic, and her head spun with the notion of just how intimate the setting was. This was their first actual date, and here they were out in the middle of a meadow, with nothing but the sound of nature surrounding them. The sun beamed its rays down, and the shade of the willow was a welcomed relief.

Patrick crouched down, taking his place next to Amber. It felt so natural sitting next to him. She could smell hints of his spicy aftershave wafting on the breeze, and inhaling it deeper only made her want to be closer to him. He unpacked several containers filled with food. Amber was impressed at the thoughtfulness and care he had put into planning the picnic. Amber was a simple woman; she didn’t need to be wined and dined in a fancy restaurant. But this was perfect.

It wasn’t long before they found themselves engaged in easy conversation, mostly sharing a lot of about themselves. They were both surprised they had so much in common.

Patrick’s long legs were stretched out, and Amber had hers curled under her. They sat there, each staring out at the water, surrounded by a comfortable silence, the kind that was usually formed after years of being together.

“This is really nice,” Amber said as she was handed a wheat cracker with a thin slice of smoked Gouda cheese on it. Slipping it into her mouth, she relished the creamy texture of the cheese but tried to shield crumbs from falling onto her blouse.

“I’m glad you like it out here. We could have went somewhere else, but this way there are no distractions as we get to know each other.” Patrick’s eyes focused in on her, causing her to shift her weight on the blanket. She suddenly became very aware of his gaze and the intensity behind his green eyes.

“No, this is perfect.” She could sense his movement, and before another word slipped from her mouth, she could feel Patrick’s lips on hers. The warm and soft texture surprised her as she offered more of her mouth to him. He deepened the kiss, causing her to moan. She had never experienced a kiss like that—the way Patrick’s tongue traced her lips and then ventured into her mouth.

Suddenly, she felt him pull back. He looked dazed. “Amber, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He must have caught the hurt in her eyes. “I mean, I wanted to kiss you, it’s just that…well…”

“I know.” Amber looked away, still reeling from the kiss. She brought her hand to her lips; they were still tingling. She turned her focus to the slight breeze that flew through the trees, making the willows move with grace and beauty.

“Amber, I haven’t dated or been with anyone since Beth.”

She turned back to him and watched sadness fill his eyes, which broke her heart. “It’s okay, I understand completely.” Amber reached and stroked his arm, trying to comfort him.

“Do you? How long have you been divorced?”

“Divorced?” Amber was confused but then realized she had never really shared her past with him. She knew about Beth because of her mother telling her.

“Yeah, isn’t that part of the reason why you and your son came back?”

“No, we came back because my dad’s sick.” Amber paused briefly, careful not to disclose that her father was actually sick with cancer. “My husband died two years ago.”

Patrick’s eyes grew wide, and his mouth gaped slightly open. “Oh, Amber, I had no idea. God, I feel stupid. I just assumed, you know?”

“It’s okay, you didn’t mean any harm. I just thought you knew. But it’s not like I told you. Just with this being Birch Valley and all, I figured everyone knew.”

“I know what you mean, especially if your mother is the one and only Mary O’Brien.”

That made Amber laugh. Even though Mary was well known for knowing all the bits of gossip and news in town, she was such a lovely woman.

“Well, it’s fine, Patrick. You didn’t know, and now you do.”

***

Patrick

Talk about putting your foot in your mouth.
Patrick felt like an ass. He had no idea that she was widowed as well; that leveled out their playing field a little more evenly. He also couldn’t believe he just went and kissed her like a hormonally charged teenager. It felt incredible, he couldn’t deny that, but it was as if he had no hold on himself, no self-control. That scared him a little.

He watched Amber stare toward the water as they sat there absorbing the quiet. He hoped he didn’t move too fast and ruin something before it even started. Patrick was enjoying his time with her; she was funny, witty, and so damn beautiful. The worst part was that he found himself wanting to touch her.

“So how did your husband die?” Patrick asked as he grabbed a handful of green grapes and waited for her to tell him the story.

***

Amber

Amber’s shoulders sagged, and she felt her gut twist. She hated retelling the story of how Peter had died. She relived it with each retelling, knowing that no matter how many times she talked about it, that it wouldn’t ever change what happened or bring him back.

“Peter was a police officer in Portland. That’s where I have been for the last fifteen years, roughly,” Amber started off, wanting to gauge his reaction. He was completely listening, his full attention on her every word. She continued. “Well, he came from a long line of law enforcement guys. He loved it. He was a cop before we met, and I knew that it was a pretty dangerous job,” Amber explained. She took a sip out of the bottle of water that was lodged safely between her legs. “Two of his buddies came to the door and told me that Peter had been killed. It was a traffic stop, fairly routine, and then shots were fired.”

“They nabbed the guy that did it, right?”

Amber shook her head. They hadn’t been able to find the man who had gunned down her husband. She had spent her time wading through the different depths of grief. She had been angry; she’d felt robbed and devastated. She had to make peace with the fact that the man who took her husband’s life might never be found, and she had to come to grips with that. Ultimately, she found acceptance somehow along the way.

“I’m so sorry, Amber.” Patrick pulled her toward him, bringing her to his chest, resting his head on hers. She felt herself mold against him. She hadn’t felt this protected and secure in a long time. How was it possible that, after only spending a couple of hours together, sharing some cheese and crackers, she could feel this connected and close to someone? The kiss. That’s what she would blame it on.

***

Patrick

He wasn’t sure why he wrapped her up in his arms, but instinct told him to. She looked wounded, and Patrick wanted to banish those dreadful feelings. He knew exactly how she felt—the hollow feeling that no one else understood, unless they too had lost a spouse.

Patrick enclosed his arms tighter around her, the plush softness of her body causing him to ache in ways he had forgotten. She twisted her body so that she could look up at him, her eyes swimming with questions. His eyes were fixed on her mouth, which was lush, full, and swollen from their earlier kiss. He threw caution to the wind, polite manners out the window, and bent down, capturing her mouth once more with his. The ache only intensified.

***

Amber

Amber leaned against her car, Patrick’s mouth on hers again. He towered over her, making her feel tiny and small and ultra feminine. The way his hands held her at her hips eliminated any space between them. She needed to come up for air. Her lips almost felt bruised from kissing him so much. They had spent a couple more hours in the meadow, talking, laughing, and kissing—lots of kissing. It had been over two years since she’d kissed someone, probably longer. But God, it felt good. She felt more alive now than she had in a long time. The only problem was that this was moving fast, like warp-speed fast, and that worried her quite a bit.

“I’d better go,” Amber reluctantly said. She looked up at his handsome face, caught in the evening sunset. How was it possible for him to be more gorgeous now than he was just moments ago?

“Can I see you again?” His voice was seductive, but there was an underlying shyness.

“Yes, I’d like that a lot.” Amber meant it too. Her brain starting to act silly, conjuring up notions about them together. She had enjoyed his company, she admired his passions, his love for his sons, and felt that there was far more chemistry than either of them knew what to do with.

He leaned in again. Amber placed her hand flat against his chest; she could feel the strength under his shirt, and her mind went to a dangerous place. “I need to go. Otherwise I fear we won’t stop.”

He raised his eyebrows and said, “Would that be such a bad thing?”

She could tell he was teasing, or at least she hoped so. “Patrick, behave. Maybe we can get together again this week?” she asked hopefully.

Patrick bent lower, and his mouth hovered just above hers, “Are you sure you want me to behave?”

Amber playfully slapped at him and weaseled her way out from under him. “Thanks for a really nice evening.”

“I had a good time too.” Patrick moved out of the way of her driver’s side door, and he wore a smile on his face as he waved goodbye.

Amber got in and started her car and slowly backed out of his driveway. Replaying the events of the date, she was a little mortified at her behavior, but she was nearly thirty-five. She also knew that life was fleeting and sometimes things, or people, got snatched away. Oh, who was she kidding? Amber knew she was in way over her head with Patrick O’Brien.

***

Patrick

Patrick let himself inside his home, and as soon as he closed the front door, he fell back on it. His brain was rehashing the details of their entire date. He hadn’t expected it to go the way it had, a part of him was ashamed at how out of control he had allowed himself to act, but Amber brought out a side of him that he had lost touch with for a very long time. Patrick almost felt like he was young again, out there in that meadow. He couldn’t explain their chemistry, but it was wild and intense. Wicked thoughts slipped into the workings of his mind, and though he couldn’t stop them from entering, a piece of him welcomed his new feelings.

He grabbed his car keys and headed out the door again, this time to retrieve his sons before it got too late. The drive over to his parents’ house felt quicker than usual, probably because his mind was overloaded as it tried to process everything.

“Daddy,” Connor squealed to Patrick the moment he entered the living room, where his sons were down on the ground playing with Daniel.

“Hey, buddy.” Patrick scooped him up and headed to where Finn was. His son was busy trying to pin Daniel, and he barely looked up at Patrick. Daniel seized this brief lapse in concentration and playfully grabbed Finn, tickling him and causing him to laugh hysterically.

Once released from Daniel’s grip, he charged. “No fair, Uncle Daniel,” Finn cried as he used every ounce of his small body to tackle Daniel, who easily became pinned.

Patrick didn’t hear his mother enter but felt her wrap her arm around his waist. “Hello, son. I wasn’t sure when you’d be by for the boys, so I gave them a bath.” Her eyes were full of questions as she met his eyes with hers.

“Thanks, Mom.” Patrick sat Connor down, who immediately took advantage of Daniel being pinned.

“So what were you doing? You were gone a bit longer than I thought,” Mary questioned. Here it was; he knew he wouldn’t get away so easily. Not if Mary O’Brien had anything to do with it.