by Lisa De Jong
I tap on his closed door twice, waiting for an answer. When one doesn’t come, I try once more.
“Come in,” he says in an annoyed tone.
I turn the knob slowly, making sure the door closes behind me. His eyes are locked on his computer, but I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that it’s me. I know Pierce Stanley.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Fields?” He still hasn’t looked up.
“I wanted to show you the progress I made last week. See if you had any ideas on how to finish the top floor.”
“Schedule something with Jane, and we’ll talk about it later this week.”
My frustration grows with every second he won’t look at me. “She’s not at her desk.”
“Send her an email. You know how to use it, right?”
I bite down on my lower lip to keep myself from breaking down in tears. He was the first person I met in Chicago. He helped me through some of the worst times. And, I repaid him by letting him down in the worst possible way.
Unable to form words, I leave him alone, walking past Jane’s empty desk again back to my cubicle. He’d said we could still work together, but I’m starting to doubt that.
While I wait for lunch to roll around, I attempt to work through a few more aspects of the design, but I hate everything.
I even venture down to Reece’s floor to scope out the newest guy in IT. It might be my mood, but he was about as interesting as the pencil holder on my desk and looked like the guy who wears the Dickie on The Big Bang Theory.
As I ride back up to my floor, I feel little hope for the rest of my day. I might as well go home sick, hit restart, and pray that tomorrow has a better outcome. The whole idea goes out the window when I see Pierce standing by my desk. His expression hasn’t changed much from earlier which leads me to expect an empty cardboard box and a security escort.
“Where have you been?” he asks when I’m within earshot. He leans against the cubicle wall, his tie slightly loosened.
“I had to run down to IT for a minute.” I rub my palms against my black trousers, nerves so high it almost feels as if I’m meeting Pierce for the first time. It’s weird how quickly we’ve gone from lovers to strangers.
“Problems with your computer?”
“Something like that.”
“Look,” he starts, “I just wanted to come over and tell you that I’m sorry for blowing you off earlier. You don’t have to make an appointment to discuss projects with me.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “I shouldn’t have barged into your office like that. To be honest, someone told me you were out of sorts this morning, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He laughs. I’m not sure what to think. “The building won’t crumble if a guy has one bad day in ten years.”
“Where did you go last week?”
“I have a house in Michigan. I go there when I need to think.”
I nod, not wanting to delve any deeper. “Did you come to look at my board or do you want to talk about it later?”
“Let’s see what you got.”
My stomach ties in knots as I flip the board over. Pierce has been critical but helpful. Hopefully, the change in the way he sees me doesn’t change how he views my work.
He leans over my chair to get a better look. “I like where you’re going, but why so modern?”
The knot gets a little tighter. “I paid attention when we were in Wade’s apartment a couple weeks ago, and I tried to create somewhere he would like to stay.”
“Okay,” he says, tracing his finger along the drawn penthouse walls.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s not that I don’t like it.” He pauses, studying it for a few more seconds. “Think about the rest of the hotel design. If you walked in front of the building or into the lobby, is this what you’d expect?”
That’s why he’s had the success he has. He thinks from every angle. “This is why you were hired for the project.”
“If the client wanted to use his style, he wouldn’t have a need for us. Our job is to hear his vision and insert our expertise. That’s what we’ve done with every room in that hotel.”
I nod, letting it all sink in. Making notes on what is salvageable and what needs to change.
“You’ve been back for a few hours, and you’re already moving in on her.”
We look up in unison, to see Blake standing there, a tight expression on his face. This morning has been so screwed up, I almost forgot about lunch. From the look of it, I’m probably going to regret it.
“Lila is my employee, and the last time I checked, working on a project together isn’t equivalent to rolling around in bed,” Pierce snaps back.
“It’s happened once,” Blake shoots back.
“She was just as much a part of it as I was.”
Blake lurches forward, but I stop him, curling my fingers around his collar. “Don’t.”
Our eyes connect, and his whole expression softens.
“Let’s go to lunch. Pierce and I can wrap this up later.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Pierce walk away. This is one of those forks where the path is easy. I’ve already made my choice. One man’s heart is mine. One man holds my happiness in his hands. Even if I’m worried about the other, this is where I belong.
I loosen my grip on Blake and grab my things off my desk. Without a word, I lead us through the maze of cubicles not oblivious to all the stares. I’m the wrong type of fish to be stuck in this fish bowl.
Just before we reach the elevator, his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me into a dark room. The door closes. The lock clicks. My back is against the wall, his breath against my ear.
“I can’t do this. I can’t stand knowing that you’re going to work every day side by side with a man who had what should have always been mine.”
“You left,” I remind him. “Just because you decided our life was over doesn’t mean mine stopped.”
“I hate him.”
“I know,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. “Were you with anyone else? While you were gone.” I don’t want to know. I need to.
“I didn’t touch another woman. I couldn’t because all I ever thought about was you. I left hoping that some day I would learn how to be with you.”
“You already know.”
His fingers deftly work the buttons of my blouse until the tops of my breasts are exposed. His hot mouth covers me as he unbuttons my pants and slips them down over my hips, falling at my ankles.
He places his hands under my thighs to free my legs. With one arm wrapped around me, he uses the other to free himself from his jeans.
I’ve heard that having sex in public heightens arousal ten-fold, and I was never a believer.
Now, I am.
A worshipper in the religion of it, actually.
Blake spins us around, carefully laying me back against a hard, cold surface. My legs are spread wide as he impales me over and over again. There’s no lovemaking, kissing or sweet words. Every time he penetrates, he’s reminding me who he is … who he owns. He damaged me for anyone else the first time we were together; it just took him coming back for me to realize it.
Some people try to tell me he’s no good, but what’s good for them might not be good for me. This is for him. No matter how much I tell him, this is how he solidifies his place.
If only he knew how he commands my heart.
How he hugs it.
He’s my anchor. Where he goes, I go. What he feels, I feel.
I lift my hands to his sweat-soaked t-shirt, yearning to feel something more as I lose all control. His hand covers my mouth. I bite down hard on his finger to muffle my screams. He’s not far behind, grunting as he explodes into me.
He tugs my arms, folding them around his waist. His heart pounds against my cheek as I work to calm my trembling body.
“There’s no one I want if I can’t have you.” His voice is horse, his bre
athing heavy.
“You have me, Blake. I don’t know what else I can do to prove that to you,” I say softly, tracing circles on his stomach.
“Don’t spend your days with him.”
“We talked about this.”
“That doesn’t mean I accept it.”
For a few minutes, we hold each other, climbing off the high. It’s only then I realize we’re in the same conference room where he walked in on me with Pierce. My life has come full-circle.
I rest my chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes. “We missed lunch.”
He smooths my hair and runs his thumbs under my eyes to help mask the after-effects of sex. “I’ll run and get you a sandwich since it’s my fault we didn’t make it out of the building.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll grab a bar from my desk.”
“The hell you will. You need to eat, Lila. Take care of yourself.”
“You’re pretty bossy for someone who just got his way.”
He kisses my forehead. “Maybe someday you’ll learn, Lemon Drop.”
IT HAS HAPPENED ONE other time. Four days before my high school graduation to be exact. I drove thirty minutes to another small town to buy a test where no one would know me. I’d stopped at our crumby little gas station—the type where you still have to go inside to ask for the key.
I remember my hands shaking so badly I almost didn’t get the package open before I peed my pants. I held it under me, praying to God that there would only be one line showing in five minutes.
As I held the test in my hand, I stared at the stained white walls processing what my future would hold if I didn’t get the result I was praying for. There would have been no college, at least not in the dorms. Derek would’ve had to make a choice between a life with me, and the life he had planned. I was pretty sure he would choose me, and maybe we would get married, and it would all work out. And then I thought about how I would tell my parents. That would’ve been the worst part.
And tonight as I look down at the test, the result is different than it was all those years ago.
A prayer didn’t save me this time. I bite down on my lower lip, trying to process it all. This time, it’s not the future that scares me, or making the phone call to my mother to let her know I’m taking life’s steps a little backwards. It’s telling someone he’s going to be a father.
Someone I’ve only known for less than a year. Someone who I’ve never discussed marriage or kids with. Someone who can’t even say I love you because he’s too afraid of losing me over it. Someone I’ve only been back together with for four weeks.
“Lila, are you still in here? I’m ready to get something to eat.”
I stand, straightening the skirt of my dress and open the door. Reece peers in. “Why are you crying?” she asks.
I hold the white plastic stick up. Her eyes widen as she comes closer. “Oh. My. God.”
“What am I going to do?” I ask, shifting back and forth on my heels.
She looks around to make sure no one else is inside. “Who’s is it?”
“It’s mine,” I say, visibly shaking.
“I know that, but whose baby is it?”
My lips tremble. I never thought the day would come when someone would have to ask me whose baby I’m carrying. “It has to be Blake’s. I used condoms with Pierce as far as I can remember, but Blake and I haven’t been.” I pause, glancing down at the two pink lines again. I keep thinking this is a dream I’ll wake up from, but it isn’t.
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
I shake my head. “I’ve been taking the shots instead. I did the math, and the last one expired a couple months ago.”
“You need to tell him. You can’t do this by yourself.”
“I’ll tell him tonight. I just don’t know how he’s going to take it,” I admit.
“He loves you.”
I shrug. I hope he does.
“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off and process this,” she suggests as the tears continue to roll down my cheeks.
She’s right. There’s no chance in hell my mind is going to be able to focus on anything else. “Can I get a rain check for lunch? I’m going to let Pierce know I’m leaving and try to catch the 1:00 train.”
“Of course, and you better call me if you need anything. I’d be more than happy to bring a pint of ice cream over.”
I tuck the test into a plastic bag and toss it in my purse. I have no idea what I’m going to do with it, but I’m not ready to let it go just yet.
She hugs me and waits while I wash my hands, passing me a paper towel. I wish I could rewind a few weeks and do things all over again, but this is one thing I’m just going to have to live with.
I walk quickly back to my desk, noticing I have twenty minutes until the next train leaves. Too blotchy from crying, I pick up the phone, hoping Pierce will answer.
He does on the third ring. “I was just about to call you.”
“Is there something I can help with?” I ask, throwing some work into my bag.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You sound as if you’ve been crying. If he hurt you, I’ll—”
“He didn’t do anything. I’m just not feeling well. I was calling to tell you I’m taking the afternoon off,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as possible.
“Our trip to New York got moved up to tomorrow instead of Wednesday,” he announces.
Pressing my fingertips to my temples, I massage slowly. “What time?”
“Eight. My car will pick you up at 7:30.”
“Okay. If you need anything this afternoon, don’t be afraid to call,” I add, feeling terrible about bailing before a big meeting.
“Hope you feel better.”
“Thank you.”
I haven’t said anything to Pierce yet about leaving after the hotel project is complete, but I’ve hinted at it. He sees the writing on the wall.
With only minutes left before the train stops, I pull my purse over my shoulder and scurry to the elevator. Once inside, I watch the numbers go down hoping the elevator doesn’t stop as each one passes. With three minutes to spare, my heels click across the lobby floor. I run as fast as I can, hopping on the train right before it roars down the tracks.
The ride is just long enough to sort out my thoughts and worries. It’s already done—there’s a baby growing inside of me—and whether he decides to stick by me isn’t up to me.
He could walk, but all I really want him to do is hold me and tell me everything will be okay. I need a partner in this. I need my lover.
As I climb the stairs, I’m undecided as to whether I want him to be home or if I’d rather have time alone with my secret.
I’m relieved when the door is locked. I slip my key in and step into the quiet apartment, setting my stuff down on one of the dining room chairs.
There’s one place in this small apartment that relaxes me. I turn on the bath water, pouring in the rest of the lavender Blake bought me several weeks ago. The sweet fragrance fills the air as I undress, tossing my work clothes haphazardly across the floor.
The scent alone brings back memories of that night, the night we may have created this baby. After testing the temperature with my toe, I sink deep into the water letting it flow over my shoulders.
With no distractions, I let my mind wander off. I envision a little girl dressed in one of the frilly little outfits my mom always put me in. She’d have my red hair and curls, with any luck. I see her giggling, and I wonder what I would name her. Something pretty, yet simple. Something that would match the strength I’d hope she’d have.
Then I picture a little boy with Blake’s dimple and light, sandy hair. I picture him in Blake’s studio covered in paint, smiling at me with the same mischievous grin Blake often wears. He’d be a heartbreaker … that’s for sure.
“There you are,” Blake says, scaring me enough that water splashes from the tub.
I cover my chest, attemptin
g to catch my breath. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He sits on the edge of the tub. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”
“I wasn’t feeling very well, so I decided to take the afternoon off.”
Leaning in, he rubs the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head.
“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”
“You could get in here with me.”
He smirks, staring down at my bare breasts. “Nothing would make me happier,” he remarks, pulling his shirt over his head. His movements put me in a deep trance—quietly studying the ridges of his stomach as he unbuttons his jeans letting them fall next to my clothes.
He slides in across from me, his eyes glued to mine. He pulls my legs between his. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
There are times in life when words just aren’t enough. Or when words are too much. I stand on my knees and straddle his lap as my lips crash into his. I push until my teeth hurt because that’s how much I love him … I love him so much it hurts.
His hands slowly inch up my back, holding me close to his chest. I could stay trapped in his love forever.
Desire sweeps through my body. I pull back just enough to gaze into his sapphire eyes. This man loves me. He may not want to say it, but he does.
Reaching between our bodies, I grab hold of him and sink down. His mouth falls open, his hands grip my hips as I come up a few inches then fill myself with him again.
“Jesus, Lemon Drop, did you come home early because you missed me?”
His fingers travel up my sides, his thumbs brushing against my breasts. Our breaths echo in the small, enclosed room.
I speed my pace, enjoying the friction. Enjoying the feeling that comes before I lose control.
“That’s it, let go, Lila. I’ll catch you … I’ll always catch you.”
Tears prick my eyes as I reach my peak, screaming his name over and over. He’s my harbor from the storm. My safeguard. My shelter. That’s what I still want him to be after I break the news.
I nestle against his chest, enjoying the feel of his strong arms wrapped around me. I cry silently, my tears falling into the water. I just got him back, and I don’t want anything to change us. We’re not perfect, but I still like us.