Hold Me

by Alexa Verde

  Snap out of it!

  “Jonah, are you all right?” She glanced back. Though her son wore boots and a black raincoat with its hood covering his chocolate-brown hair—he didn’t inherit her red hair—worry twisted her heart.

  She shook her head to chase memories away, and tiny droplets of water went in all directions. Dawg decided to follow her example, sending even more water their way. Muddier water, from when they’d run through puddles to get into the car.

  “Dawg! Um, sorry.” Guilty tightened Jonah’s voice. “I’m fine. The pets are fine, too.”

  Roman turned the key in the ignition, and the motor revved to life. “I have clean towels and several pairs of socks in the backpack in the back. Please help yourself.”

  Jonah handed her a soft towel from the back seat, and she swiped at her face. Her knee-high boots held on, so her feet felt dry. Thanks to the raincoat, most of her clothes were dry, too. Okay, so her jeans were soaked up to her knees. She hadn’t had time to change to slim-leg jeans tucked inside her boots. But she could definitely live with wet jeans.

  “I…don’t know what to say.” Wasn’t that the truth? She swallowed hard. “I mean, thank you. Thank you so much.”

  A muscle moved in Roman’s jaw as he drove the truck slowly. He didn’t say she was welcome. Because, surely, she wasn’t. She wasn’t welcome in his truck. She wasn’t welcome back in his life.

  “The house I own is in the flood zone. It’s an old home, so I don’t think it’s elevated the way it’s required.” She looked out the window. “I don’t think it’s wise to be there at a time like this. Can you drive us to the shelter?”

  “Well, I think your son and pets would be more comfortable in my townhouse.” Roman’s voice was carefully neutral again as he navigated in the pouring rain. “The vacant part is fully furnished, and the pantry and refrigerator are well stocked. I keep it vacant for my cousins from around the world. One of them just canceled his upcoming vacation here.”

  “That’s nice of you, but…” She searched for correct words to refuse his offer politely. “We should really go to the shelter.”

  She definitely wasn’t welcome in his house. It was shocking he’d even offered. It showed once again what a caring man he was, but didn’t she know that already?

  Roman was either a born “fixer” or he’d become one because of his dilapidated childhood home where everything was literally falling apart and his parents dedicated more time to their arguments than to their home or children.

  If she’d told him the truth about what was happening to her father that horrifying day over twenty years ago, Roman would’ve tried to fix that situation, too. To the point, it could’ve ruined his life. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “M–mom…”

  “Yes?” Alarm squeezing her chest, she winced at the unsure quaver in Jonah’s voice. “What happened? Are you feeling unwell?”

  “Mom!” Jonah rolled his eyes again. He’d been doing that a lot since he’d become a teen. Where was the sweet boy who’d hung onto her every word? “I told you I was fine. But I, Dawg, and Speedy took a vote.”

  “Jonah, really?” Seeing where this was going, she tried to stop him with the stare that worked once upon a time.

  Apparently, that wasn’t the case any longer.

  “We’re all in favor of going to Mr. Roman’s house. Right, Dawg?” The dog barked something in response that Jonah interpreted as yes, no doubt.

  “Turtles don’t talk, and dogs only bark,” she mumbled as she turned back and looked out the window. At least, the rain had eased off.

  What was she going to do with that kid? For starters, she couldn’t call him “kid” any longer. But then, he’d grown up so much faster than she’d wanted him to. Where had fourteen years gone since she’d held that tiny bundle in her arms?

  “I asked Dawg if he wanted to go to Mr. Roman’s place, and he lifted his paw. That means yes.” Jonah’s voice reached her from the back seat.

  “That’s three votes against one.” A hint of mockery twitched the side of Roman’s mouth. “Counting mine, four. Listen, I have a lot of space, a big-screen TV—”

  “Fine!” She resisted the urge to hide her face in her hands. Did he have to be this nice to her? It only made the mountain of guilt on her shoulders press harder on her. “Why are you even helping me?”

  His jaw set in a tight line. “Because you needed help. So when Mrs. MacPherson called me saying she felt bad you had to drive her home and worried about you, I promised her I’d find you and get you to safety.”

  Oh, so he did this for Mrs. MacPherson. There was no reason for disappointment, and still, a sting made her wince. Mrs. MacPherson was the mother of one of Roman’s cousins, and Roman and Aileen had found a safe haven in her house while growing up. Aileen made her first cookies under Mrs. MacPherson’s supervision and learned to bake most of her pastries.

  Something shifted inside her. Her mother hadn’t allowed Aileen to bake. According to her, just the scent of cookies could make her gain weight. Gaining weight for a woman who’d nearly become a famous actress—if not for getting pregnant—was a no-no. Never mind how all those alcohol cocktails she’d swigged on a regular basis weren’t exactly calorie-free. After all, her mother had needed to drown her sorrows in something, right?

  Aileen pushed painful memories away. She’d come a long way from a scared, lonely, constantly worried child, thanks to God sending her Roman, Mrs. MacPherson, and Jonah. “Roman, you did great. You fulfilled your promise. So now you can just drop me off at the shelter.”

  “Mom!” Jonah’s protest was followed by a bark. If turtles could talk, Speedy would probably join in as well.

  “Too late now.” Just a note of teasing in his voice. A note she knew so well. “We’re close to my house.”

  And she did know him well. How he used to spike his black hair with too much gel until she’d asked him to stop because she’d liked to run her fingers through it. How the dots in his brown eyes glowed and how pain darkened them when he’d talked about his mother, who just like hers, had mastered the art of making an argument out of anything and blamed her husband and kids for everything under the sun. How all the hard lines of his face only hardened now and the tiny, barely noticeable birthmark winked in golden skin above his right eyebrow. How one of his teeth was slightly chipped.

  Everything about him was sweetly and painfully familiar as if she finally found a part of herself. A part she couldn’t claim.

  How his lips had tasted when he’d kissed her and held so close she felt she could touch his heart.

  Uh-oh.

  Heat rose inside her as she looked out the window. She needed to pay attention to here and now, to taking care of her son and pets. There would be no romance, no kisses in her here and now. She’d made it clear to several men who’d asked her out. There could be no romance with Roman, either, because she’d betrayed him. Best intentions or not, she’d betrayed him.

  Huh.

  This was a nice neighborhood.

  Way more affluent and so different from the one they grew up in. His mother had always berated Roman’s dad for not providing well enough for them until he finally left. Aileen’s parents had constantly bickered, too.

  She didn’t want her own family to be like that. One of the reasons…

  Best not to think about it.

  She clicked the seat belt open.

  Though it was now dark, lanterns bathed a soft glow over a large, sand-colored wooden-framed building, connecting two houses with arched windows and a spacious white porch boasting a chocolate-hued swing. Exactly the house she’d wanted him to build—or renovate—when they’d dream of their home. Simple and unpretentious but cozy and welcoming at the same time. The white picket fence looked as if brand new, and the grass and trees appeared freshly trimmed.

  Apparently, she’d taken too long gawking because all of a sudden Roman opened the passenger door and lifted her in his arms. Her breath caught in her throat as a delic
ious wave went through her.

  He smelled of that spicy cologne, mixed with the earthy humidity now hanging in the air, and soothing safety. Being held in his arms again felt…amazing.

  No, no, no. No thinking like that.

  All too soon, he placed her on the ground. Well, in a puddle, but she barely noticed through her mental fog.

  Argh.

  She wasn’t a lovestruck teenager. She had a son to think about, and she’d ruined any chance of being with Roman many years ago.

  “I’m going to carry you. I wouldn’t want you to get dirty by the time you make it to the porch,” Roman said somewhere to the side after grabbing their bag from the backseat.

  Her head snapped up. “I can make it to the porch on my own, thank you very much.”

  Okay, shy by nature, and then from being married to a highly respected and as highly belittling man, she’d tried so hard to learn to be independent last year that maybe she was overcompensating.

  “Mom, he was talking to Dawg.” Jonah climbed out of the back seat, then put his small backpack over his shoulder and picked up the turtle tank.

  Heat flamed up her cheeks. “Oh. Okay. Great. Thank you.”

  She took Speedy’s tank from Jonah’s hands. “Be careful where you step, please.”

  “Mom, I know!” Jonah closed the truck door.

  As they followed Roman, the same question as before, but for a different reason, appeared in her head. Her thoughts seemed as muddy as the water beneath her feet.

  She’d done her best to avoid Roman since her return to their hometown, and she’d seemed to succeed so far.

  Then how did she get herself in this predicament?

  Minutes later, Aileen placed Speedy and his tank on the coffee table nestled on a plush mocha-hued carpet between chocolate leather sofas, beautifully carved rich mahogany furniture, including built-in bookshelves with wooden figurines. His work. She recognized the style.

  Her eyes widened at the figurines’ exquisite quality. Even from here, they appeared amazing enough to be considered pieces of art. She shouldn’t be surprised. Even before she’d left for Portland, he’d already exhibited skills good enough to keep his works flying off the shelves in the local tourist store. With time, those skills had clearly improved and sharpened.

  All in all, this place was such a contrast to the tiny cottage she’d barely been able to afford after putting the down payment on Aileen’s Pastries—and even that only due to generous help from her father who by some miracle had managed to come up with funds. She’d painted the cottage inside and outside in bright colors, furnished it with thrift store finds and Mrs. MacPherson’s gifts. But she was happier there than in the mansion she’d left behind, and Jonah told her he liked it way better here, too.

  With Roman’s skills in carpentry, flooring, roofing, electricity, and pretty much everything home related, she’d imagined his house—townhouse in this case—would be amazing, so she shouldn’t be surprised. They’d once dreamed of their house together. He’d laughed then and promised he’d let her choose the colors and decorate it the way she wanted.

  Oh, how much she’d missed his laughter!

  Later, she’d caused this man to suffer. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she couldn’t let them spill, couldn’t let Jonah see her distress. He’d gone through too much already.

  She placed her hands on her son’s shoulders, as much to comfort him as to remind herself what was important in her life. “It’s wonderful here and very kind of you to offer, but… I don’t know if we should stay.”

  She should’ve known better than to buy a house in a flood zone. Should have!

  It had been a risk, and she’d bought it anyway despite trying so hard to avoid risks all her life. Risks never paid off. Ask her how she knew. From watching her mother take risks with money. Or leaving her father for another man and coming back. Or driving to Hollywood to become an actress and failing at it when Aileen had turned thirteen.

  Risks only made life so much more difficult. Her mother had never worried about putting food on the table or cleaning the house. Since an early age, Aileen took on that responsibility. Somebody had to worry about making dinner and washing dishes.

  Roman frowned. “I know there’s some bad blood between us. But I want you to know—”

  “Mom, look, a PlayStation!”

  His eyes crinkling up, Roman chuckled. “My cousin’s son loves to play video games, and he comes to Chapel Cove from time to time. So I keep this for him. Of course, Jonah, you’re welcome to it. I’ll be happy to play a few games with you.”

  “Could we stay? Pleeeeeeaze?” Jonah lifted pleading eyes at her.

  A smile softened the tight edges of her lips as she looked at her biggest treasure. “How can I say no?”

  “Yay!” Her son did a fist pump.

  Winning Jonah’s heart was so easy. But erasing the damage she’d done to Roman’s? Was that possible? Probably not.

  How many times had she wanted to call, visit, and say how sorry she was, explain, ask for forgiveness? But if she’d seen Roman again, she wouldn’t have been able to come back to her husband. When she returned to her hometown after the divorce, letting things be seemed easier than opening old wounds. Besides, words wouldn’t be enough, would they?

  The torment in his brown eyes tore at her. Sacrificing her happiness to help her father once seemed like the right thing to do. A month into her marriage to a man she didn’t love, it didn’t seem like a good decision anymore, but it was too late to change.

  Wasn’t it?

  She leaned toward him. “Roman, I’m sor—”

  He lifted his hand to stop her apology. “No need for that.” He turned to her son. “Jonah, let me show you to your room. I hope you’ll like it. Oh, I bought a bunch of clothes for my younger cousin, and he’s about your size. And a tablet. You’re welcome to all of that, if you’d like.”

  “Oh, man! Thanks!” Jonah’s voice perked up.

  “Thank you, Roman.” She tried to smile again, though every kind gesture of Roman’s struck a dagger in her heart. “Um, Jonah…”

  The kid sighed. “I know, Mom.” He mimicked her tone. “Don’t even turn on the tablet. Brush my teeth and go to bed as soon as you tell me.”

  Roman’s lips tugged up a little. “Hey, that was pretty good. No offense to your mom. Aileen, please take a seat, and I’ll show you your room in a moment. Oh, unless you two would like to have dinner first? I can’t claim I’m as good of a cook as you, but I can whip up something.”

  “I’m not hungry, but I’ll take a snack. And a piece of lettuce for Speedy. Mom packed turtle food, but I’d like to give him some fresh veggies.” Jonah grabbed the tank too swiftly, jostling the turtle.

  “Thank you for asking. No dinner for me, either.” She’d love to sink onto the sofa because her legs didn’t want to hold her any longer. Working long hours on her feet after starting every day at four in the morning was taking its toll. Besides, after all the excitement of the day, her adrenaline ebbed away, and fatigue took over. “But I’d like to feed Dawg first.”

  Dawg ran to her, giving his approval to her decision. She unzipped the bag she’d packed, handed Jonah pajamas and a plastic bag with his toiletries, then found a can of dog food and a bowl. Thankfully, she’d packed a lot of dog food cans, because that mutt could really eat.

  She lifted her eyes to Roman. “Really, I’m sor—”

  “The past is in the past.” Roman threw the words over his shoulder as he led Jonah to his room.

  But as something strong stirred inside her, she rubbed the shivers from her arms. No, not all things were in the past. At least, not for her.

  Chapter Three

  THE NEXT morning, Roman disconnected a call, stretched his aching leg, and lay back against his pillows.

  Yesterday, he’d called all his relatives, including his twin, Kristina, and Mrs. MacPherson. Everyone was okay, though a few were stuck inside their houses because water came up their driveways. Since
they had enough food and TV shows to keep them going for a while, they didn’t seem too upset by it. Before even getting out of bed today, he’d called everyone again, and the situation was the same, except one of his friends had his garage and part of the living room flooded.

  Air whooshed out of Roman’s lungs, and he sent up a prayer of gratitude. According to Mrs. MacPherson, who’d talked to Violet, a human substitute for a news station in their town, there were no casualties from the flood.

  He said another prayer for the people whose properties had been damaged. While he’d welcome extra work, he wouldn’t want it to come at such cost.

  Nobody knew yet that Aileen, her son, and their pets were in his townhouse, or he’d get an earful from Kristina and teasing from the rest.

  Thankfully, he didn’t have any customers scheduled for this morning. Still, time to get up. He needed to get the equipment and drive by his friend’s house to help with cleanup.

  As Roman swung his feet from the bed and they sank into the soft carpet, the previous day’s events came flooding ack. He winced. Okay, maybe flooding wasn’t the best word to use.

  He’d tried to keep his mind off Aileen and concentrate on the flood’s consequences. Cleaning dirty water out of a house seemed much easier than dealing with his feelings.

  The doorbell chime made him wince.

  He pulled on his jeans, raked his fingers through his hair to smooth it somewhat, and rushed to open the door.

  Aileen’s return created conflicting emotions inside him—longing, wistfulness, regret, anger, and so many he didn’t even want to identify.

  How had he ended up with her under the same roof?

  Well, he couldn’t just refuse somebody in need. Besides, he’d had little resistance to those blue eyes when he was eighteen, and he had as little resistance at forty, twenty-two years after she’d crushed his heart.

  He looked at the peephole, and his heart shifted.

  Jonah.

  The teenager wore a white sweater and blue jeans Roman had bought for his cousin, and his chocolate-brown hair was slightly ruffled as if he hadn’t combed it after sleep. The boy didn’t inherit Aileen’s bright-red hair or her blue eyes—his eyes were brown, like Roman’s—but there was an unmistakable similarity in features.