Within Reach (21 page)

She gave a small moan as he bit her nipple gently before soothing it with his tongue. Her hand found his belly, sliding down the front of his trousers until she felt his erection beneath her hand.

“Daddy…?”

Angie’s head banged against the wall as she jerked away from Michael, her hands instinctively yanking her T-shirt down even as her gaze found Eva in the doorway, one hand knuckling the sleep from her eyes.

Oh, bloody hell.

Michael stepped back from her, his face very pale. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a dry croak. “I didn’t realize you were awake.”

“I just woke up. Why were you kissing Auntie Angie’s boobies like that?”

Embarrassed heat rocketed up her chest and into her face. Michael was red, too, but he didn’t take his gaze off his daughter.

“Auntie Angie and I were just having a cuddle,” he said lamely.

Angie closed her eyes for a long beat. Why hadn’t she closed the door? Better yet, why hadn’t she just come at her usual time instead of giving in to impatience and racing to see Michael again?

“You mean you were sexing,” Eva said knowingly. Her eyes were big and questioning as she looked at Angie.

Angie had no idea how much Eva knew about the birds and the bees. Judging by the way she giggled whenever someone on TV kissed, she guessed not much. She had no idea what to say and she looked to Michael, not wanting to step on his toes.

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” Michael stepped forward and put his hand on Eva’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go out into the kitchen so we can talk about this?”

For a moment Angie thought Eva was going to protest, but she simply gave Angie one last, wide-eyed look before allowing Michael to lead her from the room.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A
NGIE
PRESSED
HER
HANDS
to her face, utterly appalled.

Of all the ways for Eva to discover what was going between her and Michael…

She felt a little sick. More than a little, actually, when she thought of what Eva must have seen when she walked through the door. She stooped and collected her bag. She walked to the doorway, then realized that she couldn’t exit that way without walking into the middle of what promised to be a complex father-daughter conversation.

She’d use the sliding door and cross the yard to the studio. Like a big old chicken.

She hovered, disliking the feeling that she was abandoning Michael to face the music. It wasn’t like she was a stranger to his children, after all. Although there was no telling how Eva would handle the notion that her father might be interested in “sexing” with a woman other than her mother.

Voices echoed up the hallway from the kitchen as she hesitated. Eva’s high tones, followed by Michael’s deeper voice.

“You don’t need to explain about sexing to me. Greta told me all about it. If you’re sexing with Auntie Angie, does that mean she’s going to be my new mummy?”

Angie closed her eyes. Poor Michael. Talk about a hairy question.

“No one is ever going to replace mummy, sweetheart.” Michael’s words echoed up the hallway, clear as a bell.

Angie swallowed. Then, before she could hear anything else, she crossed to the sliding door and let herself out onto the deck. She slid the door shut behind her and simply stood there, hands pressed against the cool glass.

She hadn’t heard anything she didn’t know already. Of course Michael still loved Billie. Of course he wasn’t looking for someone to replace her.

None of it was new—except for the fact that she’d just realized that somehow, while she’d been looking the other way, she’d fallen in love with Michael.

Ironic that it had taken hearing him declare his continuing devotion for Billie to make her face the truth.

Feeling more than a little dazed and decidedly fragile, she made her way across the deck to the studio. She fumbled with her keys, then opened the door and stepped inside. She didn’t bother turning on the lights, she simply went and sat on the chair at her workbench, her handbag pressed to her belly.

How had it happened? She’d gone in with both eyes open. She’d known from the get-go that he was never going to be emotionally available in that way. And yet she’d gone and fallen in love with him anyway.

All the breath left her body in rush. She felt so stupid. Really idiotic. She’d set herself up for hurt, big-time. And now it was heading her way like a Mack truck on a downhill run.

She didn’t bother hoping. There was no point telling herself fairy tales. For the past year and more she’d watched Michael mourn Billie. He loved her with every fibre of his being. It was as incontrovertible and uncontestable as gravity. She’d always known it, she’d slept with him knowing it. She’d told herself that it didn’t matter—and up until a few minutes ago she’d honestly believed it.

But somehow, in between the dinners and the days out at the beach and the bedtime stories and the laughter and the sex, she’d lost sight of the fact that Michael still belonged to Billie. She’d been lulled by his ready affection and the obvious pleasure he took in her company and her body. She’d always loved his children, but she’d allowed herself to sink into his family, to invest in them in a way she never had before.

That was why her apartment felt empty and foreign. That was why she’d rushed over here this morning, and why her heart gave a little kick whenever she saw him. Not because of the great sex, but because she loved him. Because he made her happy. Because she wanted his happiness more than anything in the world.

Footsteps sounded on the deck. Her gaze found the door as Michael appeared. He’d pulled on a shirt, but his feet were still bare. So typical of him.

“Is she okay?”

“A little confused. Which is hardly surprising.”

“No.”

“She asked me a few questions, but she seemed satisfied when I explained to her that sometimes adult friends like to cuddle and kiss when they really like each other.”

She nodded, imagining how difficult that conversation must have been for him. “I’m really sorry.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have shut the door.”

“
I
should have shut the door.” He shrugged. “It happened. I’m not wild about it, but it’s not the end of the world. Eva’s a smart kid. If she has any questions, she’ll ask me. We’ll work it out.”

She stared at him. He was being so reasonable. So human and understanding and real. It was one of the many reasons she loved him.

For a moment, the knowledge that this special, lovely man would never, ever feel the same way about her was a physical pain in her chest. She blinked rapidly, swallowing the confession that was suddenly crowding her throat.

The last thing he needed was to know that she’d fallen in love with him. The very last. He had more than enough on his plate without having to take on responsibility for her pain. Which was exactly what he would do, because he was that kind of man.

The kind who worried about whether his friend was safe when she went to work in her crappy, run-down building. Who dropped everything to help the same friend clean up when she was overwhelmed by the bad luck that had come her way, and who never took her for granted or assumed anything where she was concerned.

She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on her bag. Then she took the plunge and did what needed to be done.

“Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Things have been pretty crazy lately.”

A faint wrinkle appeared between Michael’s eyebrows. “Have they?”

“You know they have.” She smiled, hoping she didn’t look as anxious and close to tears as she felt. “And we always agreed that this would only last as long as it felt okay for both of us.”

His head shifted, as though he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly. “Does that mean it’s not feeling okay for you anymore?”

“I think it might be a good idea if we pulled back a bit. Took a bit of a break.”

“Right.”

He was confused. Why wouldn’t he be? Not twenty minutes ago she’d been panting and hot for him, her hand down the front of his pants.

“Is this because of Eva?”

“No. We both know what this is, Michael. I don’t want to lose sight of that. You’re not looking for anything permanent. And I don’t want to start believing in something that’s never going to happen.”

It was the truth, or part of it, anyway. It was enough to shock him. She could see it in his eyes—he’d never considered that she might fall in love with him. That was how wrapped up in Billie he still was.

Proof, if she’d needed it, that she was doing exactly the right thing.

“You know I care for you, Angie.”

“I know. But you love Billie, which is exactly as it should be. She was incredibly lovable. Hell, if I’d been a man I would have given you a run for your money.” Somehow, she forced a light little laugh out her mouth. “I’m just drawing a line before things get muddy, that’s all.”

If only that were true. If only she’d been smart enough to be that on top of her own feelings.

“I guess that’s probably wise.” He was frowning again and he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Yeah. I think it is,” she said softly.

She stood and closed the distance between them. She set her hands on his shoulders, letting her fingers press into the warm, solid strength of him one last time. She closed her eyes and pressed a kiss to his lips, lingering longer than was wise, unable to stop herself from savoring one last moment of intimacy. He kissed her back, but when his hands came up to frame her hips she opened her eyes and stepped backward.

“I had a lot of fun,” she said. “I’ll never forget it.”

The words almost choked her, but she said them. She even sounded convincing, miracle of miracles. Michael seemed convinced, anyway, because his face was suddenly shuttered.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

She moved back to her chair, willing him to leave now that she’d set him free. As though he’d picked up on her silent signal, he glanced at his watch.

“I need to get the kids off.”

“I know. I’ll see you later.”

She managed to stop her chin from wobbling until he’d disappeared through the door. Once he was gone, she set her jaw and took a deep breath, blinking rapidly.

No tears. If he comes back and sees you crying… No tears.

Despite her stern self-talk, her eyes flooded. She made a disgusted noise and shot to her feet, crossing to her table and chairs. She snatched up her notepad and pen and sat and started composing a list of things she needed to do.

First up, she had to find a new studio, because she could not function if she had to come here every day and keep seeing Michael and the kids. She loved them all like crazy, but no way was she that big a masochist. Sitting on the outside looking in at something she wanted so badly would be pure torture.

So, a new studio. Which meant she needed to find a solution to Michael’s child-care problem. She knew him well enough to know that if she moved workshops he wouldn’t allow her to continue picking Eva up from school.

She would ask around her friends who had kids, see if they could recommend anyone. Even though it would kill her to reduce her contact with Charlie and Eva.

Although who knew how Eva was feeling toward her now that she’d caught Angie “sexing” with her father. She added a new note to her list:
talk to Eva
. Because she needed things to be okay with her goddaughter.

She was all out of things to do—except for the big one, of course.

Get over Michael
. She laughed as her pen formed the words, the sound more of a hiccup than anything else.

She wasn’t stupid, despite all signs to the contrary. It was going to take her a long time to stop loving Michael. There wasn’t a corner of her world he hadn’t touched. Stepping back from him was going to leave a big hole in her life.

She breathed through her nose. She needed to get through this as efficiently as possible. Just get it done.

She used the back of her hand to wipe away the few tears that had made it down her cheek. Then she pulled out her phone and started ringing real estate agents.

* * *

M
ICHAEL
HAD
TO
WORK
hard to keep his mind on the road and on his daughter’s chatter as he drove her to school. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened with Angie.

She’d ended things with him. What had she called it?
Drawing a line before things got muddy.

“Daddy, stop. You drove past the school.”

Michael braked and signaled to pull over. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay. I can walk from here.”

She leaned across for his kiss and he bussed her cheek and gave her a one-armed hug.

“Have a good day, okay?”

“I will.” Eva slid out of the car and shut the door. She turned to go, then just as quickly turned back and rapped on the window.

He hit the button to lower it. “What’s up?”

“You know what we talked about this morning? About you and Auntie Angie?”

“Sure. What about it?” He braced himself for another difficult question.

“I wouldn’t mind if it was her.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?”

“If she was my new mummy. Not that I would call her that, because Mummy is Mummy.”

He looked into his daughter’s earnest brown eyes and swallowed. “Yeah, I know.”

“Auntie Angie is ace.”

“Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

“Okay. You think about it and get back to me,” she said, stepping back from the car.

He couldn’t help smiling at her take-charge attitude, but the smile quickly faded as he watched Eva disappear through the school gate and he pulled back out into traffic.

He’d done his best to explain what Eva had seen between him and Angie this morning, but he couldn’t explain to her that Auntie Angie replacing Billie had never been on the agenda. He was nowhere near ready for that kind of commitment again. Not even close.

Which was why Angie had ended things between them this morning, because she didn’t want to start believing in something that was never going to happen.

He remembered the way she’d said it, the way she’d laughed and told him that she knew he still loved Billie, that she understood. She’d always understood, right from the start. In the early days, she’d been the only one who knew how he felt, how empty life felt. She’d been the one to help him hold it together enough to look after the kids, and she’d been the one to kick him up the pants when he needed it. When he’d found himself viewing her as a woman and not a friend, she’d handled that, too, matching his honesty with her own.

She’d saved his ass. She’d kept him sane. She’d made love to him with abandon.

And now it was over.

She’s still your friend. She’s not going anywhere. You’ll see her every day, she’ll still stay for dinner and hang with you and the kids.

He knew it was true, but he also knew it was going to be next to impossible to stop viewing her as his lover and start seeing her as just a friend again. How was he supposed to look at her and not remember how she looked beneath him, her blue eyes cloudy with passion? How was he supposed to smell her perfume and not think of the soft, silky spot just beneath her ear? How was he supposed to hear her voice and not remember the things she said when he was inside her?

It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t just forget those things about her. They were etched in his mind, indelible. Better yet, he didn’t want to.

And there’s the crux of it, you selfish bastard. You want more, but you’ve got nothing to offer, and she knows it. And yet you still want it anyway.

It was a sobering realization, and it took all the heat out of his reaction. What right did he have to ask or expect or want anything from Angie when he had so little to give her in return? Hell, he’d only been generous enough to allow her access to his bed
this weekend,
for Pete’s sake.