Ready & Willing (36 page)

“He doesn’t love me enough,” she finished quietly, surprised at how easily she was able to speak the thought aloud. “Not enough to come back and stay.”

After only a small hesitation, Silas nodded. “I’m afraid there is no other way to put it,” he told her. Then he hurried on, “You have to understand, Audrey, that many people, after they die, find themselves in a place that is extremely pleasant. It is entirely free of fear and sadness and want. There is no fatigue, no worry, no pain. It is a state of absolute peace and utter contentment. For many, it is the state they had always hoped to have in life but could never manage. And once they finally experience it . . .” He lifted a shoulder, then let it drop. “They simply don’t want to leave. Not for anything.”

“But you left,” Audrey pointed out.

“I did,” he agreed. “Because I had something to do here that superseded everything else in importance for me. I needed to ensure that my family name remained unsullied, and I had to save my descendant from going to a place that is quite the opposite of the one I left, one filled with fear, sadness, want, fatigue, worry, and pain. A state of absolute torment and utter despair. Saving Nathaniel from that, to me, was far more important than absolute peace and utter contentment. Had I allowed him to continue down the path he was headed, peace and contentment for me would have been impossible.

“Had you found yourself in the same sort of position Nathaniel is in,” he continued, “Sean, I am confident, would have come to your aid. But he knows that won’t happen to you, Audrey. He knows you can make it on your own. He knows you will move on after his death. He knows you don’t need him.” He smiled gently. “Not the way Nathaniel needs you.”

“But I do need Sean,” Audrey said softly. Then she realized that wasn’t true, really. Not anymore.

Silas eyed her with much interest. “Since his death, you’ve donated his things to people who can use them, have sold the house the two of you once shared, have started your own business that is promising to be quite successful. You’ve woken up every morning and you’ve done whatever needed to be done. You did that from the day after his death ’til now.”

“But—”

“You are a very strong woman, Audrey Magill. You can take care of yourself and the others around you. You’ve been doing that all your life, even in the wake of your husband’s death. Sean knows that. He knows you are fine on your own. He saw that for himself when he returned that first year after he was gone. And he wants you to move on with your life.”

“But what about—”

“He doesn’t feel a need to come back, Audrey. He hasn’t for some time now. For you or . . . or for him.”

“So what you’re saying”—she finally made herself accept—“is that Sean is perfectly content. Without me.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t still love you, Audrey,” Silas assured her. “But he has found happiness where he is.”

Audrey said nothing, giving herself a moment to figure out how she felt. On one hand, it gave her comfort to know that Sean was in a place where he was happy and at peace. On the other hand, the realization that he had found that without her being around made her feel—

Huh. That was strange. What she felt was a twinge of melancholy mixed with . . . relief? With hopefulness? With . . .

Happiness?

Out of nowhere, Nathaniel’s face rose up to replace Sean’s, and Audrey realized that, like Sean, she had moved on, too. Without him. She’d feared making love with Nathaniel would feel like a betrayal of Sean. Would almost be adulterous, because she still considered herself a married woman. But it hadn’t felt that way at all. That day she’d spent with Nathaniel at his condo had been the most wonderful day she’d enjoyed in years. Being with him had made her feel whole for the first time since Sean’s death. He’d filled all the places that had felt empty since she’d lost Sean. But he filled them in ways that were different from her husband.

Her feelings for Nathaniel, too, were different from the ones she’d had for her husband. Her love for Sean had been gentle and comfortable and pleasant, just as Sean had been himself. And he had made her
feel
gentle, comfortable, and pleasant. With Nathaniel, her feelings were intense, energetic, and passionate. Just as Nathaniel was himself. Just as
he
made her feel.

Two very different men. Two very different loves. Neither better or worse than the other. But both important. Both vital. Both essential to her happiness.

“Silas,” she said, “I have to go.”

He smiled at her. “My dear, do I need to point out that it’s after midnight?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s perfect, actually. Midnight is when ghosts come out and all manner of supernatural phenomena occur.”

“I beg your pardon, madam. I come and go whenever I wish.”

She smiled. “So you do. Is that going to continue? Or will you be leaving once we clear up that pesky lost soul business with your great-great-whatever grandson?”

He arched a dark eyebrow. “I shall be here for a while longer.”

“Because of Nathaniel’s soul?”

“That, too,” he said. “But there is another—”

“Cecilia,” Audrey said before he could finish.

“Yes.”

“I thought there was something going on between the two of you.”

Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but Audrey could have sworn he actually blushed at that. All he said, however, was, “She is a lovely woman.”

“She is that.”

“And there is a matter of some unfinished business that I need to see to for her.” Audrey started to ask what that might be, but he hurried on, “Once that is cleared up, however, if it is within my power to do so, yes, I intend to remain.”

Audrey’s rising spirits sobered at that. “If it’s within your power,” she repeated. “So you still don’t know what’s going to happen when all is said and done?”

“I do not.”

She nodded slowly, then said the only thing she knew to say. “Don’t wait up for me, Silas. I may be a while.”

 

IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT WHEN NATHANIEL HEARD
the knock on his front door, but he was nowhere close to going to bed, in spite of having donned a pair of silk pajama pants in midnight blue and knotted a robe of the same fabric around his waist. In fact, he was standing on his balcony again, gazing at the apartment house on Everett, thinking how much he wouldn’t mind being again the kid who had lived there. That kid had had so many opportunities he couldn’t see, so much potential he didn’t realize, so many chances to live a good life and be happy. He wished he could go back for ten minutes to point out to that kid how great he had it, how much he could bring to the world, how different—how much better—his life could be from the one he envisioned.

He also wished he could tell that kid that, someday, he’d find complete happiness with another human being. Unfortunately, Nathaniel feared that would be a big, fat lie.

He hadn’t tried to call Audrey today, even though he’d received news from his PI that sounded very promising. After the way they’d parted last night, with her wanting to take a cab instead of letting him drive her home, he’d thought maybe she was having second thoughts about what had happened. About what might still happen. She hadn’t removed her husband’s ring or her wedding band, even when she’d been giving herself to Nathaniel. Because she still loved Sean, he knew. More than she . . . cared for . . . Nathaniel. More than she might ever . . . care for . . . Nathaniel.

The knock at the door stirred him from his thoughts about Audrey . . . until he crossed the room and looked through the peephole and saw her standing on the other side of the door.

“Audrey,” he said by way of a greeting after tugging open the door. “What are you doing here?” Immediately, he added, “I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you, but . . .”

She smiled at that, a little uncertainly. “Are you?” she asked.

How could she doubt it? “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop, but there was nothing casual in the shrug. “Maybe because I was too blind yesterday to realize what was going on between us? Or, at least, what I hope is going on between us.”

Something inside him that had been clenched tight started to ease up at her words. “And what do you hope is going on between us?” he asked.

Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own. “Can I come in?”

He chuckled nervously and stepped aside, sweeping his hand to the interior of the room in silent invitation. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised to see you here so late.”

She had started to walk past him the moment he moved aside, but spun around quickly at his last words. Very softly, her gaze fixed with his, she said, “I hope I’m not too late.”

He wasn’t sure if she was talking about the hour or something else. Either way, however, the answer was, “No. It’s never too late for me, Audrey.”

She smiled again, a little more confidently this time. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

He closed the door and leaned back against it, not sure what to say or do. He figured if Audrey was here at this time of night, she had her reasons for coming. So he waited for her to continue. He’d wait for her no matter what. No matter how long.

For the first time, he noticed how she was dressed—she’d pulled a hooded sweatshirt on over what looked like pajama pants and an undershirt of some kind. He grinned at the realization. Not only had she come here for a reason, but whatever it was must have been some nighttime epiphany that was so important, she hadn’t bothered to get dressed first. She hadn’t even worn proper shoes, having slipped her feet into bedroom flip-flops. But she had an overnight bag slung over one shoulder, so she’d at least taken the time to ensure she was ready for an overnight stay. At least he hoped that was what the bag meant.

When she saw where his gaze lay, she pulled the bag from her shoulder and let it drop to the floor. “I decided to close the shop tomorrow and give Cecilia and me a day off,” she said. “And I was hoping maybe you could give yourself a day off, too.”

“Not a problem,” he told her. “Especially if you’re here.” And then, because he still didn’t quite trust what he hoped was happening, he added, “You are going to be here, aren’t you? I mean, that bag doesn’t mean you’re leaving town or something.”

She shook her head. “Why would I leave when I finally know where I belong?”

His heart beat faster in his chest, and that strange warmth seeped into his belly again. It began to spread farther and grow warmer when she unzipped her sweatshirt and shed it, dropping it, too, to the floor. Because his gaze went immediately to where the gold chain with her husband’s ring should have been, and he saw that it was gone. Inevitably, his gaze flew to her left hand next, and when he saw that she’d also removed her wedding band, that knot that had been easing inside him broke completely free.

“Your ring,” he said, returning his gaze to her face. “Sean’s ring . . .”

“I put them both in a safe place,” she said. “I put them . . . away.”

She covered the scant space that still lay between them and cupped her left hand over Nathaniel’s jaw. His body warmed immediately under her touch, and he lifted his hand, too, to curl his fingers around her nape.

“Sean is my past now,” she said. “I’ll always love him, and I’ll always carry a piece of him in my heart. But you, Nathaniel, are my present. And, I hope, my future, too.”

He dipped his head forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “I can think of nothing I’d rather be than your future,” he told her. “Unless it’s your present. I don’t want to be without you, ever. Anywhere. Even if something goes wrong, and I end up on the other side, separated from you, I’d find you, Audrey. I’d come back from wherever they send me, and I’d find you. I’d be with you. My soul belongs with yours. And I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure our souls are together forever. No matter—”

He wasn’t able to finish, because she pushed herself up on tiptoe and crushed her mouth to his. He hauled her against himself, and she roped her arms around him, and for long moments, they only kissed and touched and reminded each other of how good it had been between them. How good it would be again. How good it could be forever. Then he swept her up into his arms and carried her to his bed.

Where yesterday, there had been urgency and passion in their coupling, now there was the addition of serenity and tenderness.
And love,
Nathaniel thought. Of course, that had been there yesterday, too, at least for him. But now Audrey acknowledged that, too. He knew she loved him, because she showed him, in every caress of her fingers on his skin and every word she murmured into his ear. So what could he do but show her how much he loved her, too?

He turned their bodies so that they lay on the bed crossways, Audrey on her back and he at her side. He draped one of his legs over both of hers and stretched an arm across her breasts, then kissed her jaw, her cheek, her temple, her forehead. Then he moved down to brush his lips over her throat, her collarbone, and her breast. He flattened his tongue over her nipple before drawing her breast deeply into his mouth to lave it again. He palmed her other breast with his free hand, hooking the nipple between the V of his index and middle fingers, kneading her gently and bringing a small, needy sound from deep inside her.

When she opened her legs and rubbed herself against his thigh, Nathaniel understood what she needed and, after running the tip of his tongue along the lower curve of her breast, he moved downward, tasting her navel and dragging open-mouthed kisses along the tender skin beneath. Then he was moving lower still, pushing Audrey’s legs wider to duck his head between them and run his tongue over the damp, heated folds of her flesh. He lapped slowly with the flat of his tongue, then drew circles with the tip. Scooting his hands beneath her fanny he pushed her closer to his mouth, parting her with his thumbs so that he could dart his tongue more insistently against her. Then he penetrated her with one finger, going slow and deep.