Running Away With You (Running #3) (49 page)

I’m in no rush, so instead I just park myself at the bar and watch from a distance, slowly letting his presence here with me begin to feel normal.  When he breaks free, he makes it a point to shake every one of the employees’ hands and to wish each of them a Happy New Year.  That’s one of the perks of working here at Rush; getting to be a small part of Evan’s inner circle of friends and acquaintances.

Evan’s final stop is the bar, where he greets Emmy and Blaine warmly.  As he stands beside me making small talk with the two, I am awash in his cologne, his sandalwood soap, his expensive shampoo.  I can barely contain the urge to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin.

“So what’s your poison?” Blaine asks him.

“I’ll take an Irish Black and Tan, if it’s not too much trouble,” he responds.  Then he turns to me and asks, “Would you like anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.  I’ve got a drink at the booth in the back.”  I make a motion to stand up, and Evan thoughtfully pulls out the barstool for me.  His hand brushes against my back and I can feel goose bumps rising on my flesh.  “Meet me there when you get your drink.”

As I walk back to the booth, the initial shock of his presence wears off and the realization of what I am tasked with sinks in.  I should have planned my speech ahead of time.  Now he’s here, I have no idea what I’m going to say.  I guess I’m going to have to wing it.

Evan joins me before I have any time to prepare.  He sits in the booth across from me.  As he attempts to fold his long legs under the table and scoot in, his legs sweep across mine, briefly; too briefly. 

“So you’ve been a busy little beaver, setting up a boys’ night out, leaving me little gifts, and now you’ve brought me down here and picked out this quiet spot in the back of the restaurant.  What can I do for you, Juliette?”

“I was hoping you would let me apologize,” I tell him, fidgeting with my fingers and unsure of what to say next. 

Evan takes a sip of his drink and sits back in his seat.  “Okay, you have my attention,” he says flatly.

“I just want to tell you how sorry I am.  I know I made a lot of terrible decisions.  By keeping secrets from you, I was lying both to you and to myself.  I tried to convince myself that I was protecting you, but the truth isn’t so pretty and noble.  I doubted your ability to handle a crisis and I didn’t believe in the strength of our relationship to survive another ordeal.”  I take a deep breath and, with a shaky hand, bring the glass of water to my lips. 

And now for the hardest part.  “But even worse than that, I betrayed your trust.  The reasons don’t really matter.  I had choices.  It wasn’t something I wanted to do and it certainly wasn’t something I enjoyed, but I did allow it to happen and for that I will never forgive myself.”

“I can almost understand not telling me about David, and Dr. Falkowski has helped me come to terms with it.”  I open my mouth to protest, but Evan stops me.  “Don’t say a word. It’s my turn to talk now. I’m angry that you put yourself in that position, and I’m pissed off that you didn’t trust me enough to talk to me about it.  He knew all your weaknesses and he preyed upon them like any predator would.  He made you believe your only option was to sleep with him.  And it almost worked.”

He pauses for a moment, leaving me to think about his words. 

“What I cannot understand,” he continues, “is how you could possibly keep that child from me for more than one minute.  And to have to find out about it the way I did?  What were you thinking?”

“I can’t offer any explanation that will help this nonsense make sense.  I wasn’t thinking clearly.  If I had been, I would have told you and Adam right away.  I’m more sorry than you could possibly imagine.  I know you’ll probably never forgive me, and I understand. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

I can’t look at him.  I’m afraid of what I’ll see.  Anger, for sure.  Disappointment, most likely.  Rejection.  I cover my face with my hands, hoping that when I look up again, he’ll be gone and I can begin to put the pieces of my life back together again.

I feel something unexpected; a pair of strong hands gently prying my hands away from my face.  “Juliette, look at me.”  A tear gathers in the corner of my eye and slowly escapes down my cheek.  He wipes the tear away with his thumb and asks, “How do you expect me to forgive you if you can’t forgive yourself?”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Evan.  All I know is that I couldn’t move on unless I apologized to you.  You deserve that.  You deserve so much more.”

“Do I deserve to be happy, Juliette?” he asks.

“Of course you do.  And I want you to be happy, Evan.  It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Because these last weeks without you have been the worst of my life.  I can handle anything – police investigations, paternity suits, public humiliation.  What I cannot handle is the prospect of living my life without ever holding you again.”

“What are you saying?” I ask.  His words make no sense to me.  He sounds angry, he looks at me with contempt, but he’s telling me he can’t live without me.  “I don’t understand.”

My eyes follow him as he gets up from his seat, walks around the table, and sits beside me on the bench.  He takes my small hands in his and explains.  “I’m saying it’s not going to be easy, and both of us have a lot of work to do.  But I’ve never been afraid of a challenge and I don’t give up easily.” 

I stare up into his handsome, square-jawed face and his twinkling blue eyes, which now gaze at me tenderly.  “But you cancelled the wedding and you told me to move out,” I remind him.

“I was angry.  I’m still angry.  I just need time.”  He releases my hand and looks at the engagement ring still sitting proudly on my finger.  “I see you haven’t taken it off.”

“They told me to, Evan.  Everybody did.  They thought it was time.  But I just couldn’t do it.” 

He looks down at me, his eyes locked with mine.  “Good,” he breathes.

I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, and at this moment I don’t care.  All I can think about is curling up on his lap and feeling his arms wrapped tightly around me.  And he lets me.  I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face against his chest.  He holds me close to him and neither of us moves for the longest time.  It feels good.  It feels right.  This is where I belong.

My mind drifts as he holds me.  I think about how profoundly different this moment is from how I imagined it.   The tides that cast me out to sea, leaving me to struggle for air, unable to fight against the rolling surf, have miraculously delivered me safely back to dry land. 

Looking up into his endless blue eyes, I ask, “So where do we go from here?”

“I know things have been totally fucked up lately.”  He pauses and nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “But ... ”

“But we need to be more open and honest with each other,” I quickly finish his sentence.

“Yes. Exactly,” he agrees. “A lot more open.” 

“I know, and I’m truly sorry. I should have told you about David. And I definitely should have said something about Kai too.”  He gently strokes my back.  “I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve caused us both ... and for not believing in you,” I say with much pain and regret.  “I need you to forgive me.” I wrap my arms more tightly around him, pulling him closer, and a promising warmth blooms in my heart. 

“This last week, when everything turned to shit, that was a new low for me,” he admits.

“The lowest I’ve ever been.” I laugh lightly. “I’d have to look up to see rock bottom.”

Evan chuckles in agreement. “So what do you think all that misery means?”

I think about it for a moment. “Well, for me, I think it means that I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you.” 

He softly kisses the top of my head. “So if we both feel the same way, and we’re absolutely miserable without each other, then there can’t be any doubt about our love for each other, can there?”

I smile and shake my head. “No, I guess not.” Visions of a blissful future with this man I so desperately love envelope me in warmth.  He’s here with me, holding me once again! 

He adjusts the diamond on my left hand.  “I still want you to be my wife, my partner.  Forever.”

“Evan, there is nothing in this world I want more.” 

“You need to understand that we work through our crap, okay?  We talk about it – we fix it. We don’t let it break us apart,” he emphasizes. “Regardless of how many completely screwed-up, psychotic people try to meddle in our relationship.” 

“I swear, I will never keep anything from you again,” I tell him, and I mean every word of it too.

The waitress arrives with dinner as we sit staring at each other, blue eyes to green.  “I’m sorry, Lindsay, but we didn’t order anything,” I tell her, confused.

“I know.  But Emmy said I should bring you two something to eat, so she ordered Kobe sliders for Evan and soup and a sandwich for you, Jette.  I hope that’s all right.”  I look down at the food and realize I haven’t eaten anything all day.

Evan smiles at our waitress.  “This is excellent, Lindsay.  Please thank Emmy for us.”  Once Lindsay is out of hearing range, Evan leans down and asks, “You haven’t been eating lately, have you?”

“I haven’t been doing much of anything, Evan,” I admit as I absentmindedly move the spoon around my tomato basil soup.

“That makes two of us.  I hope that changes after tonight.”  He grins at me and takes a bite of his slider.

We sit together and chat about the small things while we eat.  He tells me how the team is preparing for Sunday’s game and I tell him about the specials we’re planning for our Valentine’s Day menu.

“I’ve missed this,” he breathes between bites.

“Me too,” I whisper, afraid to say much more. 

Once Lindsay comes to clear away our plates, Evan wraps his long arm around me and pulls me close, nuzzling my hair.  I breathe in his scent. He smells heavenly, my favorite fragrance in the entire world. He tightens his arm around me and kisses my hair. “We’ve agreed to be completely honest with each other, right?”

“Of course,” I agree, not sure where he’s going with this discussion.

“Then I’ll just come right out and say it.  I want you to come home.  I can’t deal with everything that’s happening when all I can think about is you.  I’m anxious, I can’t concentrate, and I’m tired of being impatient with everyone all the time.  Besides, I sleep better with you in bed beside me.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask warily.  Evan nods.  “We could start out slowly.  I could stay in the spare room for the first few nights if you prefer.”

“If anyone is staying in the spare room, it’ll be me,” Evan states plainly.  “I’ve been sleeping there a lot lately.”

“Really?  Why?”  I can’t imagine why he’d want to stay in that tiny room on that small bed when he doesn’t have to.

“It’s where your things are.  I felt like I had a little bit of you there with me at night.  It’s been the only place I could get any sleep at all.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him.  “If I’d just talked to you from the very start, none of this would have happened.”

“We might have avoided all this heartache,” he mutters. 

“Oh, Evan.  I love you so much.”  Desire explodes throughout my body like the Fourth of July, and I pull him down to my lips so I can kiss him, my hands knotting in his hair, pulling, twisting. I pour all the angst and heartbreak of the last few days into our kiss, binding him to me, and it hits me, in this moment of blinding passion – he’s doing the same, he feels the same.

He breaks off the kiss, breathless. His eyes are burning with desire, firing the already heated blood that’s pounding through my body. “Let’s go home,” he snarls.

I nod in agreement, and in the blink of an eye Evan is up on his feet, dragging me out of the booth.  He looks down at me with hooded eyes and warns, “You have one minute to get your things and say goodnight.  I’m taking you home.  Now.”

Looking up at him, I’m momentarily stunned.  He wants to take me home.  I know I don’t deserve this joy, but when it comes to Evan, I’m greedy. 

As quickly as I can, I hurry past Emmy, race to the back, and grab the few things I need to take home for the night.  Emmy tries to stop me on my way back to Evan.  “Jette, wait!  Where are you going?”

Evan meets me halfway, takes me by the hand, and leads me toward the front door.  As we weave our way through the tables, passing by counting smiling faces, he calls back to her, “I’m taking her home.”

“Be good!” Emmy calls after us, giggling with delight.  “But if you can’t be good, be careful!”

We barely make it outside the restaurant before Evan pulls me to him and kisses me so wickedly that my stomach flip-flops with desire.  There’s no doubt what’s on his mind as he reaches for my hand and practically drags me to his car. “We’ll pick up your car tomorrow,” he announces as he opens the door for me and I climb inside.

Soon enough, we’re speeding toward the beach house.  I can’t help but stare at him as he drives with such ease and comfort.  He has light stubble over his chin, and my fingers itch to scratch it and feel it against my face.  His hand reaches over for mine and he laces our fingers together.  He brings my hand up to his mouth and gently presses his lips against my ring before placing my hand squarely on his heart.  I can feel his heart beating steadily beneath his shirt, and any uncertainty I had about his feelings are lessened with each beat.

Once home, Evan opens the door to usher me inside.  After setting the alarm, he turns around and simultaneously we lunge for each other, tongues and lips desperately and urgently colliding. 

Like a bolt from the blue, Evan sweeps me into his arms and backs me up against a wall.  I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling his body tightly against mine.  He takes my hands and pinions them above my head, holding my wrists tightly in place.  He traps me beneath him, the hard curves of his body pushing against me while he continues to violate my mouth with his explosive kisses.

His free hand travels across my thigh and up my skirt, skimming the soft silk of my panties.  I can’t stop myself from grinding against him, feeling his hardness pushing against me in just the right places.  Desire to feel his flesh against mine burns through me, and I tear my wrists from his strong grasp and begin to unbutton his shirt.