Authors: Emma Scott
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Sports, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
My mother laughed. “What kind of question is that? And from where?”
“I told you that Drew and I have decided not to have children and Daddy seemed disappointed. But you don’t mind? I’m an only child. I’m your only chance for grandkids.”
“Alexandra, really. Can you see me as a grandmother? Changing diapers and…what? Making mud pies? I wasn’t capable of that when
you
were a baby. And please don’t thrust the moniker of Grandma on me. I’m too young!”
She laughed lightly and meandered away from the calla lilies. “Peonies. Hmm. I’m ambiguous. On the one hand they look like beautiful silk, but once they start to wilt they look like wrinkled laundry.” My mother stopped. “Are you having second thoughts about children? Is Drew?”
“No, I…I don’t know.”
“I’m just so proud of him. He works so hard and has accomplished so much. I thank God every day you found him so that no matter what unfortunate turns your own career might take you will never know want or insecurity.”
“I have a career of my own, Mother,” I said. “I wouldn’t be destitute without Drew, for God’s sake.”
My mother peered down her nose at me. “You’re not working now, are you?”
“It’s a
paid
leave—”
“It’s a leave nonetheless, and if they can survive without you for a few weeks, it might occur to them they can survive without you, period.”
“Or it might occur to them that I’m too valuable to lose at all. Jesus, Mother, thanks for the vote of confidence. I can take care of myself.”
“You can, darling, I know you can.” She took my hand and patted it. “And I’m very proud of you too, but Drew is exceptional. Between the two of you, you’ll have the life I’ve always wanted for you. Security and comfort. There is nothing more valuable in this life than to be free of struggle. You and Drew make excellent partners in that capacity.”
“Business partners,” I muttered.
“Perhaps, but a partnership nonetheless.”
I thought of Cory, heard his words in the bank, the way his hand sought mine, to entwine our fingers. A merger, not of money or assets, but…something else.
“Speaking of which, I do hope you’re not still living in that beach house, away from Drew?” Mother clucked her tongue. “A crack in the armor. One little fissure, that’s all it takes, Alexandra, before your rock-solid union becomes riddled with chasms.”
“I’m moving back in with Drew a week from Friday. After the engagement party.”
“That day can’t come soon enough. I hope you sell that house after you’re married. Or rent it out for a tidy sum. I hear the rentals in that area are through the roof.”
I smiled to myself.
Yes, astronomical at one dollar per month.
“There’s a lovely smile, darling.” She patted my cheek. “What do you think of tulips? I’ve always loved tulips. Not plumeria. Dear lord, when your father and I are at the timeshare, we’re besieged. Fiji is covered in them. I like the desert flowers much better. Which reminds me, we’re leaving on Thursday for Palm Springs. Be back on Sunday.”
I nodded. “What about roses?” I admired a vibrant bouquet, offset with baby’s breath. “What about bright red, in-your-face roses?”
“Don’t be silly. Your wedding colors are violet and cream. And red roses are too…”
“Passionate? Fiery?”
“Yes, both.”
“What if I like passion, Mother? What if I want that instead of security or comfort. What if I want fire?”
My mother made a face, touching one velvety bloom, her expression strangely thoughtful. “The moment a rose begins to fade, it loses its beauty. Passion. It fades. And fire…Fire burns out, leaving nothing but cold ash.” She turned to me, looking me in the eye. “Remember that, darling. It burns away and if you don’t have the solid ground beneath your feet, it will burn you too.”
Alex
I returned from my appointment to find Cory in the backyard, sanding the dresser. He wore only a wife-beater tank and jeans, and I had to stop and admire him from the kitchen.
His body, my god.
Sweat glistened on the tanned skin of his shoulders and arms, ran in the lines of his muscles, and gave the tattoo on his left shoulder a silvery sheen. The tattoo looked liked a Dios de Los Muertos figure—a beautiful woman but with her face painted like a skull, shrouded in and an elaborate wreath of flowers and swirling colors.
I drank my fill of him and then ventured outside. “How’s it going out here?”
“Getting there,” Cory said. He was crouched on his heels and blinked up at me in the later afternoon sunlight.
“Can I help?”
Cory eyed me up and down in my designer skirt and blouse. “You’re not exactly dressed for it.”
“This is the latest in refinishing couture, didn’t you know?”
“Can’t keep up.”
“I’ll go change and maybe order some dinner?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Or do you have another hot date at Vic’s?”
He shook his head in a charmingly sheepish manner and said, “I could eat.”
“Good.”
We ate and sanded furniture and talked and laughed, and overall had a wonderful time. It was so easy to be with him, even with our intimate history lurking between us. There was no awkwardness that night, only a pleasant collection of hours that I was certain would lead to a peaceful, dreamless sleep. For both of us.
Instead, later that night, I sat up in a bed, sucking in a breath in readiness for a scream. I choked it back, and squeezed my eyes shut against the horrible blood-soaked images of the nightmare. I hoped Cory was doing better and crept into the living area to see.
He was awake, his license exam materials spread out over the low coffee table as he had studied after dinner. ESPN, on mute, flashed on TV, but he wasn’t watching. He stared at nothing, his face haggard and drawn.
He met my eyes and scooted over. I sat and leaned against him.
I think we both were asleep in moments.
#
I fit so perfectly against him.
Like a puzzle piece.
My groin presses against his hipbone, and gently, carefully, I grind against him.
Just once. Twice. Three times. I’m going to wake him if I’m not careful.
But oh, god…I need…
His eyes open. I don’t have to say anything. I don’t have to feel ashamed.
His hand moves down, between my legs, under my panties, his fingers slip inside…
I gasp—
Yes!
—and clutch his wrist…and seek him, stroke him, until both of us writhe, until I feel as if I’m coming apart against him and he’s finding his release in my hand and the empty house is loud with the sounds of us, together…
The phone rings.
No!
“Don’t stop,” I gasp.
“Never,” he breathes, and he doesn’t stop, and oh god, the fire.
I’m consumed…
#
I gasped and jerked awake. Morning had come and I lay against Cory on the couch, his arm slung around me, my head pillowed on his chest.
I didn’t move.
A dream. It was only a dream.
But it was alive, not just in my mind but in my entire body. I felt warm all over. Burning.
Oh, god, did I…?
Did we…?
But by some miracle, he was still asleep. I inhaled slowly, deeply, willing my pounding heart to slow, and oh so carefully slipped out of his embrace, to my bathroom, and the shower.
I hung my head as the cold water poured over me, trying—again—to douse the fires that Cory kindled in me, even in my sleep.
There aren’t enough cold showers in the world…
#
I was making coffee when Cory came in to pour a bowl of cereal.
“Would you like some?” I asked, proud of how steady my voice sounded.
“Yeah, sure, if you can spare it.”
I concentrated on my task while he reached for a bowl in the shelf above my head. I felt his nearness all along my arm and the right side of my body, as if I were standing too close to a live wire.
“So…what do you have going on today?” I asked, striving to keep my tone light.
“Tuesdays I usually visit my dad,” he said, his back to me as he rummaged in the fridge.
I snuck a peek. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, both of which fit the muscular contours of his body so perfectly my mind took a nosedive straight into the gutter. I cleared my throat and poured the water.
“That’s nice. You go every Tuesday?”
“I try to. When I’m not locked up in a bank with armed psychos in cheap Halloween masks.”
I turned, shaking my head at his grin. “Oh, is that bank hostage humor?”
“So overdone, I know.”
“Tired material.”
We shared a light laugh and he said, “Yeah, so I try to go every Tuesday. Work sometimes gets in the way, but then they’ll let me visit at night too. I have no excuse.”
“I think that’s admirable.”
He shrugged. “You’d do the same.”
I tried to imagine my father in a home or hospital, and nodded vaguely. “I would,” I agreed. “But I’m sure my job would get in the way after a while. It has with everything else.”
Cory leaned his back against the counter, palms flat on either side. “I doubt that. When the shit really hits the fan, priorities seem to line up pretty quickly. Pops had a lot of friends in the business before the strokes. They visited him pretty regularly at first. Then less regularly. Then not at all. But that’s friends, not family. Family is different. You show up for family.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess you do.” It was so easy for him to say that. Just a simple truth in his world. I had an ugly feeling it wasn’t the same in mine.
“Anyway,” he went on, “I used to get pretty pissed that the guys stopped visiting. But I don’t think Pops even remembers them anymore. Still, it’d be nice if he could see something besides my ugly mug once in a while. Callie comes along sometimes,” he said, brightening. “She’s a little trooper. Some people get nervous there, but she walks around like she owns the place.”
He smiled to himself, and I did too, watching how his distinctly
not
ugly mug softened and became even more handsome when thinking of his daughter. Then he shook himself and said, “Anyway. What are you up to today?”
“Nothing, actually,” I said. “There’s a yoga class, I suppose. Maybe read or…I don’t know. I’m still not used to having nothing to do.”
“Go to the beach,” Cory said. “I would.”
“I prefer tropical beaches to Los Angeles. Too many people, not enough greenery.”
Cory nodded and he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You could…uh, come with me. If you wanted.”
“To meet your father?”
“I mean, you don’t have to…”
“No, it’s just...You want me to?” I tried not to let it show how touched I was that he’d think to include me. He must have taken my shocked silence for hesitation.
“We could grab some lunch after…” Then Cory shook his head and waved a hand. “Nah, it’s okay. Never mind. I’m sure it’s not how you want to spend your free time. I can’t blame you.” He smiled and took his cereal to the bar and sat down. “It’s cool.”
There was a silence and then I heard myself blurt, “I’ll go.”
He looked up quickly, a flash of happiness passing over his face. “Really? No, no, it’s fine. I feel like an ass for asking. I shouldn’t have…”
“I’d like to go. After all, someone needs to tell him what a hero his son is.”
“No…uh, no. He can’t know anything,” Cory said, and the seriousness of his tone wiped the smile off my face. “It might just confuse him and then worry him. His Alzheimer’s is getting worse every day. I don’t know what he thinks is real anymore. I mean, he’s not totally lost but if you told him about the robbery…it might turn into something worse for him. Okay?”
I nodded, feeling like a blundering heel for being so cavalier about something so personal. I turned away as the coffeemaker mercifully beeped it was done. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t go, anyway. It’s…private business.”
I started to pour the coffee, heard the chair scrape, and then he was beside me.
“Hey.” He laid a hand on my arm, turning me gently. “The real reason I asked you to come meet my dad, is not for him. But for me. I’m…I’d be proud to introduce you to him. Since I sold the business, I don’t get too many opportunities to try to make him proud. Not anymore.”
I swallowed the jagged lump in my throat. “Saving the lives of fifty people seems like a pretty good one to me.”
“That’s too complicated a story to tell,” he said, his dark eyes like brown velvet. “But you…All you have to do is walk into the room.”
My heart fluttered in my chest. He leaned closer, cupped my cheek in his large hand.
He’s going to kiss me,
I thought. I couldn’t pull away, couldn’t move at all. I was mesmerized by him. “We have to be careful,” I managed. “
I
have to be careful.”
“I know.” He smiled ruefully, his thumb following the contour of my cheekbone. “It’s not as easy as it looks. We’ve already…been close.”
“That’s
why
we have to be careful,” I breathed.
His cell phone rang from the back pocket of his jeans. And then again, into the silence between us.
“You should answer it,” I said.
Cory nodded sadly and released me. “Georgia,” he answered dully. “Hi.”
I watched him walk to the living room, and then slumped against the counter. I’d always thought the weak-kneed feeling was a cliché, but Cory’s nearness, his touch…I felt it in my whole body.
He’s been traumatized by the robbery, same as me. He’s suffering the same anxiety, the same attachment.
I clung to these pathetic excuses as if they were lifelines.
I was pouring the coffee as Cory returned. He hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair. “So that was Georgia. She needs me to pick up Callie. For the night.”
“Okay.” I frowned at his troubled expression. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all. I just didn’t know if you’d be cool with it.”
“Cory, the entire reason you’re here is for Callie. It’s fine. I’m actually kind of excited to meet her.”
“You are?” Cory’s smile was brilliant, wider than I had seen it in a long while. “That’s nice to hear. I’m sure she’ll love you. Love to meet you, I mean.”