Ian walked into the living area and paused in front of glass doors that offered an uninspiring view of the watery cityscape, before turning toward me.
“I could make you a cup of Earl Grey, if you don’t mind using a tea bag,” I offered, taking his hand.
“Shelby, I didn’t come here to have you make my tea.” He walked over to the hide-a-bed sofa, sat, and patted the seat cushion next to him. “Come sit down and let’s have a chat.”
I gulped, not knowing exactly what to expect. After I perched on the sofa, he trained his unusual eyes on my face.
“I’m so sorry about your mum.”
Ian took my hand and pressed it between his palms while gazing at me with an anguished expression. “Why didn’t you let me know? I would have come to you sooner if you’d asked me.”
Once again, guilt slashed at my insides. My silence over the past few days had hurt him, and the last thing I wanted was to inflict more emotional damage on a man who’d already had more than his share. I never should have gone off on him when I had few facts to support my accusation, especially when he’d come all this way to attend the memorial service of a woman he’d never met.
“I…I don’t know.” My mouth went slack; every word caught in my throat like dry saltines. “I should have called, but things were so unsettled between us that I figured I’d handle this on my own.”
I huddled on the couch and fought back tears. The stress of losing my mother, coupled with the raw emotion of seeing Ian again, was overwhelming. He drew closer, wrapping one arm around me so I could rest my head against his shoulder.
“Dani said you called her?” I asked in a muffled voice.
“Since you weren’t exactly in a communicative mood, I decided to talk to your daughter.”
He threw Dani a broad wink and received a stern look in return.
“I thought he deserved to know what’s going on, since the two of you had been, well, whatever.” Danielle shrugged, her gaze shifting uneasily between Ian and me. “So, go ahead and make up and do whatever you need to do. I’ll be downstairs in the lounge.”
Her eyes narrowed in his direction before she added, “Call me if you need anything, Mom.”
***
I rested in the shelter of his almost-smothering embrace for a few moments, not willing to disrupt a tender moment.
“Please forgive me,” I finally managed to utter. “I was wrong to accuse you of sleeping with Monica. I know you wouldn’t have done something like that.”
“How do you know?” he asked, catching me off guard.
I inhaled deeply before plunging forward. “I believe what you told me. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, but I was afraid that you would drift away. Sometimes I worry that you’re a little too much.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Ian. I guess I got caught up in trying to be a strong, independent woman, while failing miserably.”
His hand reached out to squeeze mine. “You haven’t failed. You’re one of the most resilient women I’ve ever met. Two major losses in such a short time is a lot for anyone to bear. Anyway, all is forgiven,” he said, erasing the last of my lingering doubts. “None of that matters now. I’m here if you want me, and you don’t have to be strong every minute.”
He produced a phone from his shirt pocket, along with a pair of retro-styled eyeglasses in a tortoise shell pattern, which he set on his nose. The glasses, along with his shorter haircut, lent him a wildly appealing Atticus Finch vibe. “Let me show you something.”
“I’ve never seen you wear glasses,” I noted.
“I took off my disposable contacts on the plane, then realized I’d forgotten to pack more.” He produced an endearing grin. “Take a look at these photos.”
He held his phone near my face. The screen featured a sweeping view of the Pacific Coast on a clear, sunny day.
“It’s beautiful, but why…” I began.
“I seem to have acquired your habit of photographing both my meals and my surroundings. I snapped these pics on my way to Malibu. I meant to send them to you but forgot in the aftermath of tropical storm Monica. The photos are time and date stamped. I couldn’t very well have taken them if I’d slept in late with her, could I?”
“I told you that I believe what you said. You don’t have to show me proof,” I protested.
“Perhaps I do.” His tone of voice shifted, becoming more serious. “If we’re going to move forward together, mutual trust is essential. I know that’s not easy for you, given what I’ve told you about my past, but I need you to believe in me.”
I leaned in to rest my head on his chest again, exhaling for what seemed the first time in days. From somewhere deep within, an emotional dam gave way, and the tears I’d been holding back flowed freely. It was an ugly cry that produced red-rimmed eyes and a tear-stained face, but Ian held me until my choking sobs subsided. Reaching into his pants pocket, he produced a folded white handkerchief and handed it to me with a flourish.
“Father always said a gentleman carries two—one for himself and another for his lady,” he said.
I wiped my tears and blew my nose.
“That’s so sweet and old-fashioned. I think I would’ve liked him.”
“He was a lovely man.” Ian’s rich voice grew softer, and I knew he must be lost in a memory. “I hope I made him proud in some way.”
“How could he not be proud of you?” I snuggled closer, while inhaling the intoxicating freshness of his subtle cologne. He dropped everything to come to me, forgave me when I accused him of sleeping with his ex, and…oh, my god!
I’d forgotten all about his meeting with the movie producer.
I broke away and sat up straight, receiving a look of surprise in return. “What about your meet and greet? It was so important to you.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He tightened both arms around me in another firm embrace. “I’ll reschedule. If Lyons wants me for the film, he’ll have to wait. You are more important than any part in a movie.”
My heart opened, my spirits soared, and a bold headline flashed in my brain. No longer a bit player, Shelby Faith Durand has secured top billing in Ian James’ life story. I only hoped he hadn’t ruined his chance at a meaty film role.
“I know you had to swallow some pride when you called Danielle, but I’m happy that you did,” I murmured. “Tell me, though, what happened to your hair?”
He let out a resounding laugh.
“I thought it best to return to the twenty-first century, so far as my appearance is concerned. You don’t like it?”
“I do, but it’ll take some getting used to. Those glasses remind me of Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, then. Peck was a brilliant actor and, from all accounts, a good human being, as well.”
I rose from the sofa to retrieve two plastic glasses from the mini-kitchen cabinet, along with a chilled bottle of locally-produced Pinot Gris.
“I believe we both could use a libation after what we’ve gone through during the past few days.”
I sat down again, poured our drinks, and took a generous sip from my glass. What I was about to say terrified me, yet I knew I had to get it out. The time for holding back was long past. I’d already wasted too many hours thinking about all the things I should have said to Mom when she still had the ability to carry on a conversation. And how many opportunities had I thrown away to tell Jean-Pierre that I loved and appreciated the man he was?
Now there’s no more time, and the words in your heart will go unsaid.
I wasn’t about to let that happen. Not this time, and not with this man.
I set down my glass and slid closer to Ian. Placing my hands on either side of his face, I paused to marvel at the symmetry of his features as my fingertips traced his salt-and-pepper stubble.
“There’s something I need to say,” I confessed, as one of his eyebrows arched expectantly. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. I know we agreed on no attachments, and I tried
to stick to it, but the truth is…” I let out my breath. “I’m not sure where to go with this, but I need to tell you that I love you.”
He swallowed hard but said nothing, while his eyes shone with the richness of fine, aged whiskey.
“I never expected to feel this way again,” I went on, “and I know the timing couldn’t be worse, but I don’t want to let you go, either.”
Ian clasped my hands in his, squeezing firmly, and brought them to his lap.
“Good to know, because truth be told, you had me at buerre blanc.”
A grin spread across my face as he flashed another screen-worthy smile.
“So, it’s true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”
“That’s how it began with this man,” he admitted, “but it quickly became something more.” He wrapped both arms around me and drew me close again.
“I wanted to tell you how I felt, but since you’d already said I was too much, I didn’t think you were ready to hear it.” His voice softened. “Then I almost lost you because I didn’t speak up.”
Our lips met in a scorching kiss, and as his tongue teased mine, the heat of my arousal threatened to overtake common sense. It was foolish to continue, given the fact that Dani could walk in on us at any minute. Ian drew back and said, “We’d better stop before there’s a repeat performance of the infamous couch incident. John Thomas is completely untrustworthy when you’re anywhere near.”
Placing my hands safely in my lap, I offered an expectant gaze.
“So, what happens now?”
Would he want me to move to southern California? Ian’s life and career were based on the West Coast, along with his daughter. The thought of leaving my cozy home, not to mention the business contacts I’d made after twenty-plus years of living in a small community, sent a new wave of anxiety crashing over me. We’d have to come up with a solution that worked for both of us, although I had no idea of what that might be.
“First, we’ll get through the next few days and give your mum a proper send-off. Then we’ll sort it all out. One step at a time, as they say.”
As my eyes swept over his face, I noticed deep creases at the corners of his eyes and a lingering hint of sadness in his expression.
“What’s left of my heart belongs to you,” I whispered.
“I won’t let you down, Shelby, I swear.” His voice broke as he struggled to continue. “The past few days, when I thought I might’ve lost you forever…”
I took his hand and said, “After you left for California, my insomnia came back with a vengeance. I was nauseated, my stomach hurt, and I couldn’t think about anything else except you. If that’s not love I don’t know what is.”
He produced a weak smile.
“Well, for the record, you’ve made me quite ill too. Until I got here, I was a miserable, brooding mess.”
“Have you eaten dinner?”
He shook his head.
“Didn’t have time. I wanted to see you as soon as I could. I haven’t had much of an appetite since I got back to California, but now that I’m here with you, I’m beginning to feel ravenous.”
The intense gaze that followed hinted that food was not all he’d like to see on his plate.
I shivered a little in anticipation before handing him a room service menu. He studied it for a moment and said, “Why don’t you call Danielle and ask her to come back? Otherwise, she’ll think we’ve jumped into the nearest available bed like a couple of randy teenagers on spring break.”
The thought of getting between the sheets with him sent another wave of desire to my insides. It was an idea with considerable merit, although we were here for my mother’s funeral, so probably not appropriate, especially given our current living situation.
I sent a text, and Dani returned to our room a few minutes later to find us sitting side by side on the couch.
“Everything okay here?” she asked.
“Certainly,” Ian said cheerfully. “Why in the world wouldn’t it be?”
She glared at him, eyes narrowed, before her eyes swept the room, seeking evidence of any sexual misconduct on our part. At least I knew my makeup wasn’t smeared, because I wasn’t wearing any. With my messy hair and tear-streaked face, not to mention the burger grease stain on the front of my t-shirt, I must look frightful. I vowed not to get anywhere near a mirror until after I’d gotten some sleep.
“I think I’ll lie down for a while,” Dani said to me, ignoring Ian again. “I started my period and these cramps are a bitch.”
Thanks for sharing, sweetie.
“Take the bedroom, and I’ll sleep out here on the sofa bed.”
“That doesn’t seem right, Mom, when you paid for the room.”
Ian sat in silence with his hands in his lap, staring at the floor.
“It’s fine,” I pushed. “You’ll have some privacy and you can watch TV or sleep. Did you bring ibuprofen and a heating pad?”
“Yes, but…” She eyed Ian again.
“If you must know,” he volunteered, lending more awkwardness to an already tense moment, “I’m not staying over. I have my own room down the hall.”
Dani placed both hands on her hips and threw him a withering gaze.
“Look, I’m not the morality police, but could you try to show some restraint until after the funeral? Then you can have all the sex that’s possible for two people your age. I just don’t want to hear it, see it, or even think about it.”
Lack of sleep, coupled with menstrual pain, had brought out her cranky side.
“Fair enough,” he said. “We’ll behave ourselves. Shelby’s not going to be awake much longer, anyway.”
True, my eyelids felt weighted. I suppressed a yawn before closing my eyes. As soon as I managed to get horizontal, I knew I’d be out like a light.
“Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning, baby,” I murmured to my grown child. “We’ll all have breakfast together before we go and pick out Grandma’s casket.”
“Umm,” she muttered, offering me a skeptical glance. Without uttering another word, she crossed the living area into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.
Chapter Thirty
Ian
“Did she bring that little knife with her?” I inquired, while Shelby snuggled next to me.
“She couldn’t carry it on, but she might have stowed it in her checked baggage. Why, are you scared?”
“A bit,” I confessed. “Especially when her hormones are raging. Seriously, though, I don’t want to be a source of friction between the two of you.”
Shelby offered another of her enigmatic cat-like smiles.
“Things will smooth out over time once she gets to know you better. In any case, I’m not letting go of you, even if she disapproves.”
She managed to stay awake until my dinner was delivered, although it became a struggle. While I polished off a steak sandwich and chips, she slumped on the sofa, her eyes half closed. Afterward, I got up to pour more wine, but she was already woozy and ready for sleep.
I settled in beside her, rubbed my eyes, and tried to stifle a yawn.
“Come sit on my lap for a few minutes, then I’ll help you make this bed,” I urged.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked, turning her gaze to the closed bedroom door.
“It’ll be all right. I think we’re both too exhausted for much sexual activity.”
She climbed onto my lap and hugged me while I stroked her silver hair. As her breathing began to slow, I sensed her remaining anxiety slowly dissipating. She emitted a deep sigh and closed her eyes again.
***
“Wake up, love. You’re drooling on my shirt and I can no longer feel my legs.”
I grasped Shelby’s shoulders and gave them a gentle shake before glancing at the illuminated dial on my watch, which registered 3:14 a.m. We’d been asleep for several hours. Her head was still pressed against my chest, which also felt a bit numb.
“Let’s get your be
d ready so you can go back to sleep.”
Even in the darkened room, I could make out the planes of her face and the shimmer of her tangled hair as a new surge of desire welled in my chest. I hadn’t thought it possible to love someone so fiercely and completely, but that was before I saw her for the first time, on the day my world came into sharp focus. In only a few short weeks, everything had changed. I’d been offered a new life script with a chance at long-term happiness.
I made a silent vow that I’d do whatever was necessary to hold onto this rare woman. She shifted, turning her face toward mine.
“You’re really here,” she whispered, as her fingertips smoothed the wrinkles in my shirt. “For a moment I thought I was having the best dream of my life.
“Was I snoring?”
“Can’t say for sure. I was asleep myself.”
Shelby slid off my lap and placed one hand high on my thigh, causing John Thomas to stir a little in response. She shook her hair back and stared down at the stain on her t-shirt.
“Look at me. I’m such a mess,” she claimed.
My hands reached for her again, pulling her nearer.
“On the contrary. I think you’re beautiful.” My voice cracked.
And everything I’d ever wanted.
“Are you sure you won’t stay here with me?” she whispered. “It’ll be daylight soon.”
Her question sparked numerous scenarios that were all completely unsuitable with Danielle asleep in the next room.
“That’s a rather tempting offer, and there’s nothing I’d rather do than snuggle in bed with you, but the last thing we need is for your daughter to stumble over me, especially after what she said earlier. She might slit my throat.”
I massaged my paralyzed thighs for a few moments, until I was sure I could stand up.
Rising from the sofa, I stumbled stiff-legged into the hallway, where I fetched sheets, pillows, and a blanket from an undersized closet. When I returned to the living area, she’d already piled the sofa cushions on the floor and pulled out the bed. A few minutes later, it was ready for a sleepy occupant. Shelby stretched out on the clean sheets, still fully clothed, and let out a contented sigh. I sat on the other side of the bed and finger-combed her hair back from her face, allowing my palm to linger near the sweet curve of her neck.
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