by JM Stewart
“To make dinner. Unless I’m mistaken, we have a standing Saturday night date. We usually make dinner together, and I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” Not waiting for a reply, he moved around the banister and trotted down the stairs.
Bent over with his head in her fridge several minutes later, he could only shake his head. Every fruit and vegetable known to man lined the shelves and packed the two bottom drawers. Reaching inside, he plucked out a long, white root-looking thing and turned it over in his hand. He hadn’t the foggiest idea what this was, let alone how to cook it. His body would no doubt go into shock if he ate this stuff. Then again, he wasn’t pregnant. Ceci ate for two now. Apparently, she intended to do it right.
He closed the door and crossed to the pantry. Finding a jar of pasta sauce, he grinned in satisfaction. At last, something he could live with. He searched again for pasta to go with it and took them both to the stove.
Of course, he had to admit he was attempting to distract himself. A lone thought kept replaying in his mind, tormenting him with reality. A place he didn’t want to be right now.
He bent to retrieve a large pot out of a low cupboard. He needed time to think. Halfway down the stairs, his mind drew up the file he kept on Ceci’s past and now refused to let it go. He kept it locked in a place she wouldn’t accidentally run across it—the bottom of the drawer he kept his gun in. That file contained all the information he’d gathered over the years. What little information he’d collected about her parents’ death, the trial that followed, and his notes from the psychologist he’d spoken to over the years, in regards to PTSD.
He crossed to the sink and filled the pot with water then set it on the stove and turned on the burner. The sole piece of information that would set him free stared him in the face. Taunted him and dared him to keep the promise he’d made to himself. Logic said there was only one thing he could do at this point. He had to tell her. Everything.
At least that’s what his head told him. His heart only knew it meant risking losing her. If she found out he’d not only kept this from her but also lied to her, she’d never forgive him.
He’d also made the decision based on more than his own needs or wants. The promise he’d made to her grandmother three years before ran through his mind. He’d never forget the way her eyes pleaded with him or the strength in her tiny, fragile hand as she clenched his arm. He closed his eyes as the old woman’s words rang through his mind, so clear he could still hear the slight rasp in her voice.
“She mustn’t ever know this. If she remembers, and they’re watching her . . . promise me you’ll never tell her.”
He made that promise with the best intentions, but not because he feared for Ceci’s safety. He’d protect her with his life if he had to. Besides, as a cop, he knew. If they hadn’t found her in twenty years, chances were they’d either given up or assumed her dead. No, he’d made it because of what her grandmother had said next.
“She doesn’t remember, but I do. Those nights she woke up screaming and terrified. The therapy sessions that never worked.” The old woman’s shadowy eyes closed, only to pop open moments later and pin him to his chair. “She’s happy now. She’s safe, and she’s happy. Let her stay that way.”
Kyle shook his head as he pulled a frying pan out of a low cabinet. He didn’t want to bring that back for Ceci any more than her grandmother had.
He moved to the fridge and yanked open the door. As he searched the shelves, the back of his neck prickled with the sensation of being watched, and he turned. Ceci stood in the kitchen’s arched entrance, dressed once again in a pale blue blouse and worn jeans.
“Need help finding anything?” Uncertainty danced in her eyes, and tension rose over the room, like a dense fog pouring between them.
The details of the file replayed through his mind again. He could recite them in his sleep he’d read them so often over the past three years. His stomach roiled, acid rising up the back of his throat. How could he look into her beautiful eyes and tell her something so awful? In one fell swoop, he’d hand her all her hopes and dreams of finding her past, then he’d have to pull the rug out from under her and shatter them.
According to the department psychologist he’d spoken with a while back, telling her something like this could unlock a hidden door in her mind, unleashing the demons within. At the very least, it would be painful for her, even possibly manifest itself in physical symptoms. Ceci already suffered from nightmares and anxiety attacks. At the worst, forcing her to relive something her subconscious had locked could shatter her mind. “Sometimes they flash back to the trauma they experienced as a terrified child and never come out.”
“Actually”—gut knotted, Kyle turned back to the fridge—“I was searching for meat. Sausage, ground beef. There any of that in all these vegetables?”
“What’re you making?” Her warmth radiated against his side. Her soft, flowery scent drifted to him. Hell, maybe it was embedded in his skin. Wherever it came from, he longed to draw her close. His chest ached with the knowledge that he couldn’t, that the reality was, he might never hold her so intimately again.
Which was why he currently searched her cabinets. He couldn’t force himself to leave the house, to leave her. He needed this connection to her, now especially. He had to admit, though, that he hoped it would soften the wound developing between them. He hoped if they did something normal, something they’d done a thousand times before, it would bring them back together again. It was an irrational hope. There was more to this situation than just his own desires, but right then, he needed this small part of her.
“The only edible thing I could find in your kitchen.” He forced a grin as he peered over at her. “Spaghetti. I need meat to put in it.”
“Here.” She reached into the fridge and pulled out a package.
“Thanks.” As he took the package from her, her soft, slender fingers brushed his, sending a wave of longing through him. Their gazes met, and, for a single, endless moment, they connected. The silent communication told him everything he needed to know. In her wide, vulnerable eyes, the trust she put in him shined back at him. She’d always depended on him to keep her safe. He couldn’t let her down now.
He inched around her and moved to the stove.
“Ground turkey?” He pulled the plastic wrap off and dumped the meat into the skillet. It was a vain attempt to cover his thoughts.
How could he do that to her? How could he look in her eye and traumatize her like that? It wasn’t about promises broken or kept anymore. He didn’t know if he could hurt her like that. Oh, he’d done it a thousand times on the job. Telling someone their family member was dead was a horrible thing to have to do, but it was part of the job description. People deserved to know, to have closure, but to have to tell something like that to her, knowing what it could do to her or the baby she carried? A baby whose very life depended on whether or not her mother stayed healthy?
Doesn’t Ceci deserve to have closure as well? And if she’s determined to find the answers, wouldn’t you rather she learn it from you?
A voice of reason resounded in his mind, like so much guilt, but the answer wasn’t an easy one. Yes, he’d rather she learn it from him, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to do that to her, to unleash those demons for her. He’d sooner spend the rest of his life without her than ever hurt her that way. Setting those memories free would put too much stress on her. That wouldn’t be good for her or the baby.
Ceci rubbed a hand over her still-flat stomach, smiling softly at him. “It’s healthier. I’m eating for two now.”
He echoed her smile, but his heart hung heavy. “Yeah. I guess you are.”
The sight tugged at his heartstrings, at the possessive side of him that wanted to claim both her and the baby as his, and standing there, staring at the woman he loved, the decision made itself. By an odd twist of fate, he’d been given a chance he’d only dreamed about. How could he give it up? He’d made the decision to keep the truth
from her based on more than his own emotions. He’d done it for her. Now, he had her baby’s welfare to worry about as well.
If she ever remembered, he’d deal with it then. Maybe what he needed was to talk to the psychologist again. Ceci’s nightmares were getting worse, and he needed to know what that meant and what to expect.
***
Cecelia sat at the table in the center of the kitchen a half hour later, idly shifting her food around her plate. Kyle sat caddy-corner to her, gaze on his plate, shoveling in bites of salad as if it were any other day. Except it wasn’t. Tension had mounted between them, and she couldn’t get her mind to shut off.
It wasn’t every day you realized you’d fallen in love with your best friend. She hadn’t meant to admit that to him, except he’d said the words first, and the impact of them had vibrated through her. Those words from his mouth had lodged inside of her as so very . . . right. She yearned, for the tiniest moment, to fall into them, to fall into him, but the thought of taking that step forward terrified her. More so even than her nightmares.
Because it meant she was one step closer to losing him. The desire and passion would eventually wear out. She’d learned that the hard way. And when it did, she’d lose her best friend. Could she take that risk?
Kyle finally glanced up from his plate, and his eagle eye zeroed in on her, a concerned crease forming between his brows. “Talk to me, Ceci. You can still do that, you know.”
Cecelia stared across the table. An ache filled her chest. Somewhere in there, a glimmer of her best friend stared back at her. She wanted so much to tell him everything, the way she used to once upon a time. Except she had no idea how to tell him how she felt. Wasn’t even sure she understood it or if she ought to voice it. How could she let this play out between them knowing there was a chance she could lose him, lose the wonderful connection she’d found with his family? The thought of losing them all made her want to sob. Her heart went out to Becca and Jackson. Torn up, divided. The thought of doing that to her and Kyle had her chest aching so much she half expected it to split open wide.
And if she told him all of that, it would only hurt him.
He set down his fork, that intense gaze boring into her. “Honesty, remember?”
She sighed and looked up. He was right. He deserved the truth. She’d made him promise to always be honest with her, back when he’d started college. Didn’t he deserve the same from her now? “I don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling. I’m mixed up and confused, and I’m terrified, and I’ve already hurt you enough. I’m afraid if I tell you how I feel it’ll only hurt you.”
“And I’d rather you talk to me than shut me out.” He folded his hands in front of him, wrists braced on the edge of the table, and leveled his gaze on her. “Tell me something. What do you want? Gut reaction. Don’t think, Ceci. Feel. What do you want?”
“You.” God help her, but she couldn’t deny it. She wanted it all. The friendship, the love. She just didn’t know if she wanted to risk losing him. She’d meant what she said—she’d rather have him as just a friend than not at all. A world without him in it wasn’t something she wanted to ponder. Yet here they were, because she’d allowed herself to get caught up in the wonder and newness of attraction. That the object of her attraction was him made it all the more alluring.
“I’m right here. Nothing’s changed.” He held out his hands, palms up, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “I’m still that guy you’ve known since you were seven.”
“That’s just it.” The need to move, to get out from under his intense scrutiny, too strong to ignore any longer, she rose, shoving the chair back with her knees. She took her plate with her, scraping it into the trash before carrying it to the sink and setting it in the porcelain basin. “We can’t go back from this. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen or that it doesn’t change anything between us. It does. It changes our entire relationship. I can’t even look at you the same way anymore, and it terrifies me.”
His chair scraped the floor, telling her he’d followed her. Her heart thundered in her ears, the muscles in her shoulders knotting as she waited. Moments later, his scent filled her nostrils, his heat radiating against her back, but he didn’t touch her, and she didn’t know if that was good or bad. All the action did was demonstrate how wide the chasm between them really was.
“This isn’t easy for me, either.” His quiet voice dripped with frustration. “It’s killing me, if you want the truth. I just want to hold you, and the fact that you won’t let me feels wrong, especially right now. But you’re so skittish, I’m afraid if I do, you’ll run from me. I’m trying to give you space here.”
He shifted, leaning back against the counter beside her. The raw, aching emotion in his eyes matched the torment raging within her. Despite the need for distance, she forced herself to hold his gaze. Something deep inside told her he needed it as much as she did.
“I realize we’ve crossed a major line. The significance of what we’ve done isn’t lost on me.” He reached out a finger and lightly stroked her forearm.
“It doesn’t scare you?” She drew her brows together and shook her head, once again unsure how to make him understand. “Aren’t you—”
“Afraid of losing you? Of losing what we have?” He pulled his fingers back and gave a miserable shake of his head. “More than I can tell you. But something incredible happened between us, and I can’t pretend it didn’t. The same way I can’t pretend it didn’t mean something to me. I won’t lie to you and tell you I can go back to the way things were, because I can’t. I’ve wanted you for a long time now, and the truth is, I don’t want to go back to having to watch you with someone else.”
“Me either.” If he could be honest, she had to be as well.
“Then what do you want?”
An ache seized her chest. She knew what she had to do, but her heart rebelled against the idea. How could she hurt him this way when he was brave enough to be honest and cared enough to know she needed space?
“Time.” Her voice trembled with emotions she could no longer hold back, fear and regret seizing her chest. “I just need some time.”
When he closed his eyes and nodded, hot tears welled in her eyes and rose to the surface along with the shame. Setting aside her unease for the moment, she reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Kyle. I truly don’t, but I’m so confused. I need time to think, and I can’t do that with you here. It just makes it harder, because you’re right. Not falling asleep in your arms after making love feels wrong, and I don’t know what to do with that. Because I can’t shake the fear. I’ll admit it. I got caught up in you, in us, in this, but I can’t tell you right now that this is something I want. Because I’m too afraid of losing you. And the only way I’m going to make this decision is on my own.”
“I understand. I won’t pretend I like it, but I understand.” He drew a deep breath and released it, then finally opened his eyes and pushed away from the counter. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and then turned and exited the kitchen, his stride long but casual. She turned and stared at the arched entrance as the quiet house filled with the sounds of him leaving. His feet padding across the hardwood floor, the distinctive creaks and groans of the boards that told her precisely where he was. She followed his progress as he made his way upstairs, down the hall, and into her bedroom.
Deafening silence settled over the house again, telling her he most likely finished dressing. Then the telltale creaks and groans came again, faster this time. When the last step gave its protest, she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear watching.
“For the record, I meant what I said.” Kyle’s voice came soft but intense from the kitchen doorway. “I’ll wait you out for as long as I have to. We can take this as slow as you need, but we’ve found something incredible, and I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I won’t give you up without a fight.”
His
words forced her eyes open. The fierce determination in the depths of his eyes stole the breath from her lungs.
“One way or another, Cecelia, you will be mine.” He pivoted, disappearing from view, his footsteps fading down the short hallway. Moments later, the front door closed, the soft click resounding through the house.
Chapter Nine
“I’ll call if I find anything. Otherwise, I’ll talk to you next week.” Chase’s voice flowed across the line with a positive note that did nothing for the disappointment settling in Cecelia’s stomach.
Seated at the kitchen table, she released a quiet, defeated breath and set her chin in her hand. “Thanks, Chase. I appreciate the update. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever find them. It’s like I don’t even exist.”
A week had passed since Kyle had left her standing alone in her kitchen. She’d spent that time attempting to go through the last of her grandmother’s belongings. Chase had called ten minutes ago to give her an update on his findings. He was a welcome distraction to a task she didn’t look forward to.
Unfortunately, Chase hadn’t found anything on her parents. Not a single crumb. No adoption records, no birth certificates, nothing. Even a tiny detail was better than nothing, than the resulting emptiness that followed her everywhere.
“Hang in there, kiddo. I have a few leads I want to try. When I find something, I’ll let you know, and if it’s out there, I will find it.” Something rustled over the line, and Chase murmured something too low for her to hear. Lila’s soft, melodic voice sounded in the background. “Hey, Lila wants to know if you’re coming to dinner on Sunday.”
Cecelia rose to her feet, the old chair scraping the worn wooden floor, and crossed the kitchen to the sink, peering out over the backyard. “Of course. Tell her I’ll bring dessert again.”
“Got it. See you Sunday, sweetheart.”