by Bella Andre
“She would be really proud of you, Zara.” He was still holding her hand. “I hope you know that.”
Her chest tightened again as pain rammed her hard in the solar plexus. She’d tried so hard to bury her shame and her guilt over the years, but the truth was she’d never actually succeeded. And now, she couldn’t keep it inside anymore. Couldn’t keep secret the truth that she’d never told anyone—not her father, not Brittany, and certainly not any of her boyfriends.
Only with Rory was Zara compelled to finally admit, and to speak aloud, the terribly painful truth of the day her mother died.
“I was fourteen, and she had taken me to see the eye doctor. I was having trouble seeing both the board at school and the soccer ball, and the optometrist confirmed that I needed glasses. He recommended that I begin with glasses, then graduate to contacts down the road in college, because he said teenagers tend to have trouble keeping contact lenses clean and remembering to take them out at night. I was so upset about having to wear glasses and looking like a nerd. Mom tried to reason with me. She promised we would find some really pretty frames, and she knew I would totally pull them off.”
Zara’s next breath shook in her chest, and she instinctively reached for Rory’s other hand, knowing she would never be able to get through her story without his grounding touch.
“I had a crush on the coolest boy in class, and I knew he would think I was the world’s biggest loser if I came to school wearing glasses, so I yelled at her that I would never wear glasses, and if she made me, it would be her fault if no one wanted to be my friend anymore. She told me I would always be beautiful whether I wore glasses or not, and that if someone didn’t want to be my friend for a dumb reason like that, they weren’t worth being friends with in the first place.”
Zara scrunched her eyes shut as her tears started to fall. “When we pulled into the driveway, I got out and slammed the door and said I would hate her forever if she made me wear glasses.” Her words were blurring together in her tear-clogged throat. “A little while later, she came up to my room, which I had locked, and said through the door that she was going back to the optometrist to talk to him about getting contacts for me. I didn’t open the door, didn’t say thank you, didn’t give her a hug or tell her I loved her.” Eyes closed, she was fourteen again, hearing the police officer tell her the horrible news. “A car shot through a stop sign and hit her. I’ve never told anyone this before—I couldn’t bear to admit it even to myself—but she died because of me.”
Somewhere in there, Rory had put his arms around her. She held tightly to him, her face buried against his neck, his hair.
“It was an accident,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was,” she said through her sobs. “If I hadn’t been such a little jerk, if I’d just worn the glasses without making such a stupid fuss, she wouldn’t have driven back to the office. She would have stayed home with me. And I would still—” Her throat tightened around the words. “I would still have my mom.”
“You weren’t the one driving the car that went through the stop sign. And you were no different from any other fourteen-year-old girl who didn’t want to seem different, especially around a guy.”
She wished she could believe him. “I swore I would never change myself for a guy again.” She sniffled loudly. “And I swore I would never wear contacts either. That’s why I got a degree in industrial and product design. So that I could devote my career to designing cool glasses. So that other kids—and adults—who needed them would never have to worry about being uncool again.”
“After what you’ve been through,” he said in a soft voice, “I think you’re amazing.”
“I’m not.” She appreciated that he had her back, but he needed to understand one thing more. “The last words I ever spoke to my mom were that I hated her—and she got hit by that car because I made her feel she had to go back to the doctor’s office.” Fresh tears fell, drenching her cheeks. “I will never forgive myself for either of those things.”
He gently brushed her tears away with their clasped hands. “Your mom would have never blamed you for what happened. Not in a million years. Not when she knew just how wonderful, how good, how generous you are. I guarantee that the only thing she ever wanted for you is happiness. And the very last thing she would have wanted was for you to spend fifteen years beating yourself up with guilt and blame.”
But Zara could only hear his words as if through a haze. “I went through all the stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression—before making it to what I thought was acceptance. But the truth is I haven’t accepted her death or my role in it. Even all these years later, grief sneaks up on me at the most unexpected times. Like tonight, while I was going through the hope chest. Or when I’m driving, if one of her favorite songs comes on the radio. Or if I see a mom and her teenage daughter fighting, I want to shake them both and tell them to appreciate each other because this might be the last fight they ever have. And then I hate myself all over again for being the reason Mom was in that intersection.” She looked up at him through blurry eyes. “What if I can never accept that she’s gone? And what if I go to my own grave hating myself?”
“You won’t.” He gathered her closer in his arms. “I won’t let you.”
It was exactly the kind of statement a guy who thought he could control the world would make. But helping Zara put her grief to rest—and the burden of guilt she’d carried around since she was fourteen—was surely an impossible task.
The ocean of tears she’d cried had drained her to the point where all she wanted was to keep her face buried against Rory’s broad chest and sleep. He must have read her mind, because the next thing she knew, he was picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom.
He laid her down on the bed, but she didn’t let go of him. “Stay.” Her eyes still closed, she breathed him in. “I need you.”
He brushed his lips across her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.
A few minutes later, he had both of their clothes stripped away and the covers over them. Zara nestled into the crook of his arm, draped an arm and a leg over him, then dropped instantly to sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Zara was still sleeping when Rory woke on Monday morning. They were still holding tightly to each other.
And his heart was still breaking for her.
It absolutely gutted him to learn that she blamed herself for her mother’s death. When they’d first connected over the engagement party on Friday, he’d thought her biggest problem was her stepsister stealing her boyfriend. And when he’d told her his story about Chelsea, Zara had clearly wanted to help him get over his guilty conscience and forgive himself for his inadvertent role in his ex-girlfriend’s accident. Now, however, he realized that Zara was the one who truly needed to forgive herself. Losing her mom was a million times bigger than the problems he’d had with his ex.
At the party when she’d said she wanted one night where she knew how it felt to be wanted even if she didn’t deserve it, he hadn’t understood how she could possibly think she was undeserving. But where he’d struggled with his guilt for a year, Zara had struggled with it for half her life, to the point where she actually seemed to think she didn’t deserve to be wanted, to be adored. To be happy.
Not forty-eight hours ago, he’d been certain that he had nothing real to offer her in the long term. But after talking with his brothers last night—and then again after Zara had shared her painful past with him—he had begun to see how wrong he’d been.
Zara sparked feelings inside Rory that no one else ever had. And he wanted nothing more than to do whatever he could to help her heal.
He wanted to hold her and kiss her.
He wanted to laugh with her and challenge her.
He wanted to protect her and help her.
He wanted to support her and learn from her.
He wanted to be there for her for as long as she would have him.
If
what he felt for Zara wasn’t magic, he didn’t know what was.
He pressed a kiss to her temple, and as he turned the problem of how to help her over inside his head, Flynn’s suggestion came back to him. Make her something tangible to show her what she means to you.
Suddenly, Rory knew exactly what to make. A new, strong, beautiful hope chest, made from a cedar log in his workshop, the same wood traditionally used for hope chests. This chest, however, would not only hold her memories of her mother and her mother’s hopes for Zara, but also all the new memories, hopes, and dreams that Zara would make in the future with people she loved…if only she could heal.
As soon as they got into the warehouse this morning, he would contact his current clients to let them know he would need a short extension on his deadlines. He wanted to build Zara’s hope chest immediately. It had to be ready by Saturday.
First, though, he would do his damnedest to bring her smile back this morning by returning to last night’s chocolate cake plan, which they hadn’t gotten around to.
Carefully sliding out from beneath Zara and the sheets, he went into the kitchen to brew coffee to drink with the cake. He was just pouring the fresh brew into mugs when he heard her footsteps.
“If I knew you would wake me up with coffee,” she said in a slightly husky voice, “I would have slept with you a long time ago.”
As upset as she’d been last night, he was glad she’d woken up her usual snarky self. Even if he now knew just how deep her river ran beneath that snark.
Happy just to be with her, he smiled as he handed her the mug, which she sipped from gratefully. She’d always secretly made him smile. Frankly, it was a relief not to have to hide it anymore.
Now if only he could find ways to keep her smiling…
“What would you say to chocolate cake with the coffee?” He held out a forkful of cake, studying her face for outward signs of the grief and guilt she’d let him see last night. But all he saw was a beautiful woman savoring cake, then sighing with obvious pleasure.
“I would say that you should marry me.”
For a guy who had never considered marriage before, he was surprised by how much he liked the sound of that.
How had Zara managed to change so many things for him in such a short time?
“Although,” she added as she ran her free hand down his naked torso, “any marriage proposals would surely be a result of losing my mind over your feeding me coffee and cake while naked. No question, this is my favorite breakfast of all time.”
“Mine too. Although there is something wrong with this picture.” He reached for the ties on her thick, fluffy robe and undid them. “You’re overdressed.”
She shrugged her shoulders to help him push the fabric off her body. “Feed me more cake so that I’ll have the energy to jump you.”
“Your demand is my command.” He forked up another huge bite and put it to her lips. “You have a little chocolate icing right here.” He leaned forward to lick the sweet cream from the corner of her mouth. “And here too.” He licked the other corner. “And right here.” He covered her mouth with his and slid his tongue against hers.
He was surprised when she used one hand flat on his chest to push him away. “This is my jumping, thank you very much.” She pointed to an armchair in the corner by a window that looked out to the backyard. “Sit.”
Though he wasn’t at all happy about moving away from her when every cell in his body was urging him closer, he did as instructed. Of course, she had to further torment him by taking her sweet time finishing her coffee, all while standing naked, looking so damned beautiful in her cat-eye glasses.
At last, she put her mug down and brought over the cake. She put the open box on the side table beside the chair, then straddled him. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”
His mouth was suddenly too dry to respond. All he could do was shake his head.
There was a decidedly wicked glint in her eyes as she reached into the box and grabbed a chunk of cake. The next thing he knew, she was smearing it across her chest.
“Oh no,” she exclaimed. “I have cake on myself.”
Rory finally managed to find his voice. “I can help with that.”
“I’m very glad to hear it.” The flirtatious smile she gave him had his excitement ratcheting up another dozen levels. “Start with my fingers.”
He brought her fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, one at a time. As he laved her sensitive skin, her hips began to move restlessly over his.
God, she was gorgeous. And so wonderfully uninhibited. He’d never imagined a woman like her existed. A woman who challenged him at the same time as she tugged at his heartstrings.
And who was also shockingly sexy.
When he was done, she made a show of examining her fingers. “Excellent work. Your attention to detail has always impressed me.” She threaded her hands into his hair, then pushed her breasts toward his mouth. “Impress me again, Rory.”
He didn’t need to be told twice before he ran his tongue over her soft skin. When she arched her back in an obvious bid to get even closer, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her flush against his erection.
She gasped at the delicious contact. Heat against heat. Hard against soft.
And both of them desperate for more.
He wanted nothing more than to drive up into her, but she’d made it clear that she wanted to be in charge this morning—and her happiness had become more important to him than anything else. Even his desperate need to take her.
Fortunately, the moment he finished licking the cake and icing off her naked skin, she rose over him…
And made him the happiest man alive.
Clinging tightly to each other, their breath coming in short pants, they rocked together in the chair, driving each other higher and higher. He was only barely holding himself back when she put her hands on his cheeks and stilled as she stared into his eyes.
“I like you so much,” she said, and then she kissed him.
The kind of kiss that was insanely hot and passionate.
The kind of kiss that made his chest swell, and ache, and yearn in a way it never had before.
The kind of kiss that was all magic, from start to finish.
She gasped as pleasure took her over, her release explosive enough to tear his control completely away.
They sat wrapped around each other for a long while, her head resting on his shoulder, his hands still gripping her hips.
“I suppose we should head into work soon,” she murmured, sighing as she sat back.
Rory was hugely tempted to convince her to chuck in her work ethic and spend the rest of the morning in his arms. But not only did he respect her career too much to keep her from her very busy daily schedule, he also wanted to get going on her hope chest. Plus, he had a very special little girl coming to spend the afternoon with him.
“We probably should. I have a new project to start this morning.” He ran his hands up her back, delighting in touching her while they talked. “And I’m also going to be babysitting Ruby this afternoon to help Flynn and Cassie out. My mom usually watches her for a few hours each day, but with my parents away this week, each of us signed up to cover a day.”
“Lucky you,” Zara said, “getting to spend a whole day with that awesome little girl.”
Zara had met Ruby last month when his sister Cassie had brought her along while she dropped off custom candy orders to the other makers in the building. While Ruby was certainly sweet, she’d become downright grizzly by the end of the delivery, letting out some eardrum-popping screams. It was telling that Zara had only been left with the impression of awesome—she clearly loved kids.
Again, it was strange how much that mattered to Rory. Especially when it wasn’t as though he’d been sitting around all these years planning his personal extension on the Sullivan family tree.
“Honestly,” he said, “I’m a little nervous about it. Not because she isn’t a totally cool kid, but beca
use this is the first time they’re trusting me to have her all alone.”
“Look at you,” Zara teased, “finally nervous about something for once in your life.”
If only she knew just how nervous he was about how to be there for her, about getting it all wrong and losing her—
Zara reached up to stroke his cheek affectionately. “You’re actually very sweet when you’re vulnerable.” She kissed him softly, then surprised him yet again by saying, “What would you say about my taking the afternoon off to babysit with you? As long as Flynn and Cassie are okay with it, of course.”
“I would say you’re the greatest girlfriend a guy could ever have.” He didn’t bother to contain his enthusiasm. Not only because Zara’s being there really would take the edge off his solo baby-minding panic, but also because it meant spending another few hours with a woman he was coming to adore. “And I’m sure Flynn and Cassie will be glad to have two of us on duty. He told me last night that Ruby’s become a bit of a handful lately.”
“Temporary girlfriend.” When he gave her a confused look, she explained, “When you said I’m the greatest girlfriend a guy could have, you forgot to use the all-important temporary tag.”
He barely managed to hold back a scowl at her reminder.
“In fact,” she added as she climbed off his lap and took the cake into the kitchen, “now that I’m thinking about it, babysitting Ruby together will be a great way to help us add to our incompatibility list for Saturday’s breakup. I’m sure we’ll have different ideas about how to best entertain her.”