Kiss and Make Up

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Kiss and Make Up Page 15

by Robertson, Faye


  Only Eli seemed unbothered by it. And when they went to bed and she stood by the window looking out at the sea, he came up and put his hands on her hips, kissing her neck, making it quite clear what he was in the mood for.

  “I thought you’d be too full for any action.” He’d eaten a huge dish of seafood for dinner, as well as what must have been the better part of a loaf of bread, and a gigantic helping of some kind of steamed pudding and custard to finish.

  “Never. I’m a scientific marvel.”

  She laughed and ruffled his hair. “I am, though. I think we need to do something else for half an hour, until my dinner goes down.”

  “Oh?” He turned her in his arms and kissed her.

  She pushed him away. “Take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”

  “Okay…”

  As he undressed, she went over to her bag and came back carrying a packet that she threw onto the bed next to him. He sat down in his boxers and picked it up. They were soap crayons, six of them, blue, red, yellow, green, black, and white. “Huh. Are you going to turn me into a human canvas?”

  She laughed and stripped to her underwear, then placed a pillow on the floor and knelt beside him. “This is how I relax. You can keep your boxers on, if you like. Come on, lie down.”

  He stretched out, and she rested her elbows on the bed next to his chest. She kissed the nipple nearest to her and smiled as he raised an eyebrow. “Sing to me while I draw on you.”

  “That’s quite possibly the most bizarre sentence a girl’s ever said to me, you know.”

  “I like to be different.”

  “Clearly.” He looked amused. “What do you want me to sing?”

  “I don’t mind. Run through your repertoire.” She pulled out the crayons, chose the red one, and started drawing. “Stop twitching.”

  “It tickles.” He shifted and settled. “These aren’t permanent markers, are they?”

  “They’re soap crayons, Eli. They’ll wash off in the bath.”

  “Ah. In that case, I’m very happy to oblige.”

  He started singing John Mayer’s “Edge of Desire,” and Tabby lost herself in his voice and in the patterns she created on his chest, covering his warm, brown skin with swirls, spirals, stars, and circles, filling them in with all six colors. She used to do it as a child to take her mind off anything that was troubling her, because she had difficulty thinking about anything else once she started drawing. She covered his chest in color, then his legs, marveling at the muscles in his thighs and the solidness of his knees as she worked before coming back up to decorate his shoulders and arms, ending up with his hands. The crayons weren’t high-quality paints, and she’d worn them down on the rest of his body, but she still managed to make a rainbow of sorts across his fingers, continuing the color across his palms.

  She looked up at the clock when she’d finished to see with some surprise that over an hour had passed. The moon was high in the sky and cast a silver trail across the flat sea, scattering its beams into their bedroom, which lay across Eli like white icicles.

  He studied the patterns on his skin. “Feel better?”

  “Yes, thanks.” The intensity of emotion that had driven her to lose herself in the color had passed, and she lay down the crayons, stood and stretched. “You should have seen me at school. I drove my teachers nuts. I’d spend lesson upon lesson covering my hands and arms with stars and moons drawn in marker. I think they thought I had a screw loose, but I just like drawing on people.” She stopped then and bit her lip. It sounded stupid when she said it aloud, and she wondered what he thought of her, drawing on him with crayons like a five-year-old.

  He just smiled, though, sitting up and admiring himself before he stood to wrap her in his arms. “Did it take your mind off things?”

  “I…” She didn’t know what to say to that.

  “It’s okay.” He kissed her and then pulled back to examine his skin again with a smile. “I’m not complaining. Because now you get to wash it all off as a punishment.”

  She laughed and led him toward their private bathroom. It featured a large tub, and she fitted the plug and began to fill it with hot water, adding a healthy dollop of bath foam from the bottle she’d brought with her. “What would you do if we’d run out of hot water?” she said impishly.

  “Torture you relentlessly, Rogers. Now get your underwear off—you’re getting in with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “With you?”

  “You’re tiny and it’s a big bath. Come on, strip.” He kicked off his boxers and stood before her with hands on hips as he waited for her to join him. She took off her clothes, and then he pulled her into his arms.

  He kissed her until she was breathless and the bath was half full, and then they got in. She spent a pleasant ten minutes scrubbing him, and when she finished he pulled her onto his lap. But the bath wasn’t quite big enough, and after several minutes of trying to maneuver themselves into a comfortable position that had them both laughing by the end, he lost patience. He stood, lifted her out of the water, and carried her into the bedroom, still dripping.

  “The bed,” she squealed as he went to lower her onto the duvet.

  “Don’t care.”

  “Eli…”

  Grumbling, he carried her into the bathroom so she could pick up a couple of towels before bringing her back into the bedroom. She threw the towels over the duvet and permitted him to lower her on top of them.

  He lay beside her and stroked her cheek. Looking up at him, she smoothed back his wet hair. He still had the odd fleck of paint over his torso, but he was so gorgeous, it made her want to weep.

  “Don’t,” he said, stroking her face.

  “Don’t what?”

  But he didn’t finish the sentence. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, and then continued down her body, covering every inch of her with his lips and tongue. He kissed behind her knees, inside her ankles, every one of her toes, the dip in the small of her back, the lobes of her ears. There was something reverential about his lovemaking this time, as if he were worshipping her body. He tasted her, teased her, until she begged for him to take her, desperate to feel him inside her. So he made love to her, and when they came, she did finally cry. He kissed her tears away, got rid of the damp towels, then pulled the duvet over her and stroked her hair as her breathing grew regular again.

  She hovered on the edge of sleep, though, feeling the comforting rise and fall of his chest behind her. She kissed his arm where it lay wrapped around her, and she felt him kiss her hair in return.

  I love you, she thought.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In the end, in spite of the fact that their time together was drawing to a close, the next day was lovely. The four of them did some sightseeing at the Abel Tasman National Park, ate lunch at a local vineyard, and spent a pleasant couple of hours walking along the beach again, talking and enjoying one another’s company.

  As the day wore on, though, Eli became aware that Tabby was growing quieter and wondered whether the thought of returning to Wellington the next morning was playing on her mind, or if it was something else.

  They returned to the beach house around six, intending to have an hour to themselves before getting ready for dinner at a local restaurant at seven. Eli and Tabby went into their bedroom, and he slipped off his jacket and shoes and stretched out on the bed. Tabby prowled nervously, however. She took off her earrings and brushed her hair, folded up her clothes, and generally seemed unable to sit down.

  Eli watched her for five minutes before saying, “It’s usually me that’s the fidgety one. What’s up?”

  She stopped and turned to face him, her gaze fixed on the ground, hands on hips. Then, finally, she looked up. Her eyes were calm but cautious, and he could see she was breathing fast.

  She took a deep breath, leaned over to her bag, and extracted a box, turning it to show him the front. It was a pregnancy test.

&n
bsp; “Ah,” he said.

  “My period still hasn’t started,” she told him. “It’s only two days late, but these things are supposed to be accurate from the first day of a missed period. I got it yesterday, from the pharmacy. I thought…I just thought maybe we should know before…”

  Eli’s heart pounded, but he kept his gaze calm. “That makes sense.” He stood then and came over to hold her hand. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded and swallowed, her brown eyes large. “Will you do it with me?”

  “I don’t think it’ll work if I pee on the stick.”

  She didn’t smile. “You know what I mean.”

  He bit his lip—now wasn’t the time for jokes. His nerves had loosened his mouth. “Sorry. Yes. Of course.”

  She took his hand and led him toward the bathroom, carrying the box. He followed, shut the door behind him, and sat on the edge of the bath. His mouth was dry. Inside the pocket of his jeans, he could feel the jewelry box pressing against his leg. He rested his hand on it, finding some strange comfort at the thought of the ring inside. A peculiar exhilaration swept through him as she unwrapped the pregnancy test and put the cellophane wrapper in the trash can.

  She took out the stick and gave him the box. “Here, I’ve read it, but you do it as well, so I don’t make a mistake.”

  He popped outside while she peed on the stick, and read the instructions. They were pretty simple. There were two windows on the stick: a small, diamond-shaped “control window” that showed if the test had worked, and a larger, circular window, in which a plus sign appeared to indicate a pregnancy or a minus sign to indicate no pregnancy.

  The door opened. He went back in and watched as she clipped the lid on the stick and placed it face down on the sink. He felt a surge of affection for her when he saw her hands shaking.

  “Hey.” He stood and walked over, slid his hand behind her neck, and bent to kiss her. He pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay.”

  She slid hers around him, holding him tightly. He could feel her heart thundering against his chest, matching his own.

  They stood there like that for several minutes. Thoughts raced through his head, but he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing, trying not to think.

  Eventually, Tabby drew a shaky breath. “Okay. It must have worked by now.”

  He met her gaze. “Together?”

  “Yep.” She reached for the stick, and they both watched as she turned it over.

  The large window bore a clear minus sign.

  She wasn’t pregnant.

  Eli stared at it, and his jaw dropped open. It was only then that he realized how certain he’d been that she was going to have a baby. His baby. He couldn’t think of what to say. The disappointment welling up in him made him stare at her blankly.

  “Oh,” said Tabby. She studied the stick for a moment as if it might change its mind. After a while, however, she threw it in the bin and washed her hands. She dried them on the towel and looked up at him. “Well, thank God for that.”

  Eli shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers closing around the jewelry box. Her words shocked him to the core. She hadn’t wanted the baby. Her relief was obvious. She didn’t need him to come to her rescue.

  For a long, long moment, they studied each other. He felt tongue-tied, devastated and emotional at the same time. But she obviously expected him to say something, some reaction to her obvious relief that they weren’t going to have a baby, so he forced a smile onto his face and said, “Yeah. We can get on with our lives now, can’t we?”

  Tabby nodded. Her eyes met his, bright and hot, and for a moment, he thought he saw a glimmer of tears. Then she walked past him, out of the bathroom. He heard her moving around the bedroom, and then her footsteps echoed down the hall. The front door opened and closed.

  “Fuck.” He sat on the bath and put his head in his hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Outside, he heard whispered voices, and then Madeleine said, “What’s happened?” He looked up to see both her and Mick at the doorway, watching him worriedly. “Tabby went out. She looked upset.”

  He let out a heavy sigh and put his head back in his hands. “She’s not pregnant.”

  “Ah,” Madeleine said.

  Mick scratched his head. “That’s good though, right?”

  Madeleine whacked him. “For God’s sake.”

  “What?” Mick looked confused. “I thought they’d made a mistake.”

  “We had,” Eli said, closing his eyes. “It is a good thing.”

  “So why do you have a ring in your pocket?” Madeleine asked.

  Her question made him feel like a fool for not doing as he’d planned and asking Tabby anyway, but Madeleine hadn’t been there, she hadn’t seen Tabby’s relief. “If she was pregnant, I would have wanted to do the right thing.”

  “Bullshit,” Madeleine said. He looked up because she sounded angry, and he’d never heard her sound angry before. “Even you’re not as bloody noble as that. You thought it would be an excuse to stay with her, because you won’t admit to yourself that you love her and don’t want to let her go.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Really.”

  “Yes, really. You’re in love with her, Eli Black, but you’re so screwed up about this promise you made to your brother that you can’t see you don’t need an excuse to be with her.”

  He met her sharp eyes, almost wincing at the anger in them. “That’s enough, Maddy. It’s not as simple as that.”

  She snorted. “Of course it is.”

  “It’s not. We’ve both got our ambitions and our dreams—neither of us should have to give them up for the other.”

  “Ever heard of sacrifice, Eli? Sometimes you have to give up what you want for someone you love.”

  “Stop telling me how to live my life,” he yelled, getting up and walking past them. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Yeah,” Madeleine said to his back. “It looks like it.”

  He shoved his feet in his shoes, grabbed his jacket, and walked out of the house. The moon was full, and the scene before him was like a black-and-white movie, all shadows and highlights. He crossed the road and walked down to the beach, seeing Tabby standing by the shoreline, a solitary figure with arms wrapped around herself.

  He walked up to her and paused by her side, looking out to sea. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wipe her face. Even crying, she was beautiful.

  For a moment, they didn’t say anything. He thought of how he’d felt so disappointed when she’d turned the test over and it was negative. Was it because it would have been an excuse to stay with her, to talk her into coming to LA with him? Or was it more than that? The image came to him then, of the boy he’d envisioned with Tabby’s large eyes and black hair, constantly drawing on himself in permanent marker and driving them crazy. Eli had never thought about having kids before—it was always something he’d thought he’d do in the future, like seeing the Pyramids, or skiing in the Pyrenees. But the thought of Tabby carrying his child had filled him with a warmth he’d never expected.

  He didn’t just want to date her—he wanted her to be his. Completely. He wanted every other man in the country to see his ring on her finger and know she belonged to him. He wanted to buy her a house, give her children, watch her become successful in her profession, hold her all night, every night. He didn’t ever want to let her go. But to achieve that, he had to mend the damage he’d done back at the house.

  He turned to her and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Her reply was sharp, and a sob escaped her lips as a kind of hiccup. Immediately, he knew a simple apology—however heartfelt—wasn’t going to work, and helplessness rolled over him. “Tabbs…please don’t cry. I didn’t want this. I don’t want to lose you, of course I don’t. We can work something out, can’t we?”

  She looked up at him, her face shining pale and wet in the moonlight. “Like what, Eli?”

  “Come to LA with me,” he blurt
ed.

  She studied him, her face expressionless. “So, when you said ‘we can work something out,’ you meant I should work something out?”

  “Tabbs…” Despair was making him panicky. “I’ve got to go. I promised.”

  She met his gaze. “But you expect me to give up my dream. I’ve been there, done that. It didn’t end well. I’m not going to do it again.”

  “I…I can’t think of any other way.”

  She bit her lip. “So what were you expecting me to do, if I’d got pregnant? When you said you’d do anything to make me happy, what did you mean? What magic did you expect that ring in your pocket to produce?”

  He stared at her. He didn’t know the answer to her question. The puzzle had gone around and around in his head, but he’d never been able to solve it, and in the end he’d told himself he’d wait until the moment came, hoping the answer would become clear. Instead, he’d screwed it up, and now it was even worse because somehow she’d found out about the ring.

  He dropped his gaze with shame and closed his eyes, thinking I’ll kill you, Mick Forstner.

  “It wasn’t Mick,” she said, reading his mind. “I saw you show them the box on the boat. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Shit. Tabbs…”

  “What did you expect?” she asked sharply.

  “I don’t know,” he snapped. She’d known he had the ring all weekend. That’s why she’d looked so odd in the bathroom after she’d found out she wasn’t pregnant. She’d waited to see if he was still going to propose.

  He had to come clean now, or he was going to lose her completely. “Tabby, look, I was going to propose whatever the outcome of the test, I swear. I waited until then because…I don’t know why—I was so convinced you were pregnant, and I thought that if I proposed when you discovered you were, it would be somehow…”

 

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