Fiona contemplated murder. Why had she worried so about keeping the three of them together when they were kids? She should have ditched them and billed herself as an only child.
“That’s a good question.” Alex took a step closer to her, his voice a silky caress. His eyes were looking into the depths of her soul. “Are we or aren’t we?”
“They’re asking you,” Fiona said, even as her heart wobbled and stammered. She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that.
His eyes kept piercing through all her barriers and slaying all her fears, even as her mind knew that this was the last time. Then, ever so slowly, he moved closer and put his arms around her. His lips sang an easy song of memories to her soul. Of fears faced and conquered. Of boat rides and swan cookies. Of secret midnight visits and of finding peace in another’s arms.
She wished it could go on forever—the sweetness, the peace, the longings that wanted to explode across the sky like fireworks. It couldn’t. She knew that. But for the moment, she clung to him, treasuring the safety and magic his arms had offered. Then, suddenly, her surroundings came crashing back around her—a horn sounding and her sisters’ raucous cheering. She pushed away from Alex. Time to get back to her real world.
Cassie was out of the car and opening the trunk, while Fiona climbed into the back seat. Once Alex had put her suitcase in the back, he came around to her window to smile at her. She gave him a quick little wave in return. Much more dignified than the silly nonsense her sisters were indulging in.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Cassie called to him.
“Come to South Bend anytime,” Sam said.
“It’s not that far.”
“You know where she lives.”
Finally, Cassie slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. After the three of them gave Alex one last wave, she pulled away from the curb.
The traffic was heavy so they moved slowly down the street, but Fiona didn’t look back, not even once. She was leaving Alex behind as well as Kate. It seemed that she was always losing the people she cared about.
“Hello, honey.” Alex’s mother was waiting at the foot of his stairs.
He paused for a moment before continuing on down to his door. His mother met him partway and he bent down so that she could kiss him on the cheek.
“I was expecting you an hour ago,” Alex said.
She’d told him she would be at his place by nine so they could go to breakfast together. He figured that meant ten and they’d go out for coffee. It was now eleven-fifteen. He guessed they were doing lunch.
“I’ve been waiting fifteen minutes or more,” his mother said. “Where were you?”
“I was upstairs with Mr. Fourier.” He unlocked the door and stood aside to let his mother go in.
“Mr. Fourier? Who is this Mr. Fourier?” she asked, walking straight into the living room where she dropped down on the sofa. “A new client?”
“No.” He heard the sharpness in his voice and paused a moment to settle himself. Just because he was having one of his moods again, he didn’t need to take it out on everyone else. It was three days now since Fiona had left. Time to get some new assignments started. “He’s my upstairs neighbor.”
“Were you interrogating him?”
“I’m not a cop anymore, Mom.”
She jumped back at his words, although he hadn’t thought his tone was as impatient and irritable as he felt. He forced his voice to be extra calm.
“I was just seeing how he was, okay?”
“Sure,” she replied, trying to find her reflection in the dusty glass in the coffee table in front of her so she could make minor adjustments to her hair. “It’s okay.”
“I was just being neighborly.”
“Alex, dear, I said it was okay.”
“Then why are you asking me so many questions?”
His mother let loose one of those big sighs of hers, the ones that filled a room to near bursting. “Okay, I’ll never ask you another question in my life.”
“Mother, you know you’ll never do that. So why do you say it?”
“So why are you so grumpy?” she asked.
“Me, grumpy?” He shook his head. “I’m not the one who came late and then started complaining that I wasn’t there to meet you.”
His mother rolled her eyes to the ceiling and sighed again. Alex clenched his teeth tight.
“I have a new fella.” A broad smile lit up her face and she suddenly looked like a different person. That was his mother—the eternal junior-high sweetheart hoping the boy across the aisle would notice her. And sinking into ecstasy if he did. “He’s real nice, you’ll like him.”
Alex sat down in his chair by the window. “I’ve liked all your husbands, Mother.”
She snorted. “You didn’t like any of them.”
“Hell, I never had a chance to get to know them. You didn’t keep them around long enough for me to even remember their names.”
“You don’t have to be cruel, Alex.” Her voice had that all-too-familiar quiver to it.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said and turned to look out his window. It was overcast outside, looking like rain any minute. Good. The weather was just right for his mood.
“It’s hard to find somebody that’s really right for you.”
“Sure, Mom.”
“Not everyone is lucky like you, you know.”
His mother’s words brought him up short, like a dog hitting the end of his leash. “Lucky like me?” he asked, finding himself turning back to look at her.
His mother was smiling softly at him. “How is that young lady of yours?”
He had this feeling that he was interrupting something. It was as if he were walking into the middle of a conversation.
“Mother, what are you talking about?”
“Alex, don’t act silly. You know exactly who and what I’m talking about.” She was wearing one of her smug little grins. “The young lady you’ve been squiring around town these past couple of weeks.”
“She was a client, Mom.”
“You sounded so happy when you were with her.”
His mother had called when he first was hired to take care of Fiona. She’d wanted him to drop by and he’d had to explain that he was working. Of course, part of that explanation included telling her what he was doing.
“I was getting paid,” he replied. “It was just a job.”
“It’s nice when a person finds that special someone.”
Alex clenched his jaw tight. “Like I said, she was just a client.”
“She made you happy.”
He winced as if in pain. Once his mother was on a track there was no derailing her.
“You even put on some weight,” she said. “Has she cooked anything for you?”
“She was my client so I took care of her. That’s how it works with clients.”
His mother stared at him a long time and suddenly he could feel the back of his neck grow warm. He remembered those hours just before dawn, after Fiona had visited Kate. God, he hoped that his mother wouldn’t start prying. Trying to find out just what he did to take care of a client. Especially a young, beautiful, female client.
“So,” Alex said, forcing a load of heartiness into his voice. “How about some lunch?”
“And where is your client now?”
“Today’s Monday.” He could play that game, too. He could ignore a question as well as his mother. “You know what that means?”
“Is she still at the hospital?”
“Anne Sather’s has their chicken-and-dumplings special for lunch. I know that’s your favorite.”
His mother just shook her head. “Why are you trying to deny something like that? It’s a fact and it’s there just like the nose on your face.”
They’d been through this kind of conversation before. Only this time his mother was persisting a lot longer than she ever had. She was holding on to Fiona like a bulldog to a bone.
“Fiona’s
back in South Bend.”
“Why?”
“It’s her home,” he replied. “It’s where she came from.”
“We all come from someplace, Alex. It doesn’t mean we have to stay there.”
“I’m going to wash my hands.” He pushed himself up from his chair. “Then we can go to lunch.”
“She sounds so perfect for you, Alex.”
“I’ll be right out,” he said, hurrying toward the bathroom.
“Alex.”
He stopped. He knew that he should hurry on and do his business, but it was his mother talking. Not a person he always agreed with, but a person who had always done the best she could for him. “Yeah, Mom.”
“You remember how you used to play you were one of King Arthur’s knights?”
He squeezed his fists up tight. “Five-year-old kids do a lot of weird things,” he replied. “That doesn’t mean they’re going to be warped the rest of their lives.”
“Find her dragon and slay it. That’s how you’ll win her heart.”
“I’m not trying to win her heart, Mom. I’m lousy at relationships. You know that.”
“What do you mean you’re lousy at relationships? You’ve never had one.”
“I’ve had a few.”
She snorted rudely. “A couple of dates with someone isn’t a relationship. When did you ever forget who you were because of someone else? When did you ever let yourself be miserable just so somebody else could be happy?”
“I know myself. I’ve saved all those somebody elses from misery by ducking out early.”
“Saved yourself is what you mean,” she snapped. “Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re my son, the way you run from love.”
“I don’t run from anything.” But this was not a conversation he wanted to pursue. There was no winning it, he knew. His mother didn’t recognize the truth when he told it to her. He cleared his throat. “We have to get going. I have a three o’clock appointment in Hammond.”
“Hammond?”
His mother was a Chicagoan, born and bred, but she didn’t recognize anything beyond the city limits. “It’s in Indiana, Mom. Just over the Indiana-Illinois border.”
“Indiana?” The smug little smile slipped back on her lips. “Isn’t that where your lady friend lives?”
“Yeah, South Bend’s in Indiana.”
“Isn’t that nice?” his mother said. “As long as you’re there already, you can drop in and see her.”
Yeah, right. After his meeting in Hammond, he’d drive another hour and a half, pull up to Fiona’s apartment and say, Hi, I was just in the neighborhood…. That was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.
Although it wasn’t a bad drive. And it would be polite to find out if she feeling okay after the transplant. More important, seeing her again would no doubt get her out of his system.
Fiona put her car in the garage and then walked around the front of the house to check for the mail. Sometimes Mr. Kaminsky brought it in and sometimes he forgot. She sighed and shook her hair free of the barrette she’d had it clipped back with. But even the mild spring afternoon failed to perk up her weary heart.
It was harder to get back into the swing of things than she’d expected. School was fine; her kids had been well taken care of in her absence. Plus, she got a chance to teach them a bit about human biology when she talked to them about the transplant. And she wasn’t all that sore anymore.
Life just seemed so empty. Besides the constant worry about the success of the transplant, there was no chance that when the phone rang it would be Kate; or when she was feeling blue, that Alex would be there to hold her.
As she came around the corner, she noticed a man sitting on the front stoop. Fiona frowned. “May I help—” She stopped as the man started to stand and she could see who it was. “Alex!”
Her heart suddenly darkened with fear. “Did something happen—?”
“No, Kate’s doing fine,” he said quickly. “I just dropped by to say hello.”
The day came alive with joy and laughter and magic in the air. She wasn’t sure how she moved, but the next thing she knew she was in his arms and he was holding her like he’d never let her go. She clung back, like she’d been afraid for years and was suddenly safe. It was a crazy notion, but she refused to let sanity into her world just now.
“What’s going on out there?” Mr. Kaminsky called from up above.
Fiona fell back from Alex like she’d been stung and looked up at her neighbor leaning out his upstairs window. “Nothing, Mr. Kaminsky.”
“Fiona? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she yelled a little louder. Mr. Kaminsky could hear fairly well but sometimes he got confused. And she certainly didn’t want him alerting the whole neighborhood “Everything is fine.”
“What’s going on?”
“I have a visitor. I was just excited to see him.”
“Oh, were you?” Alex muttered, his voice teasing and sending little shock waves down her spine.
“A visitor?”
“Yes.” She pushed Alex back up the steps and unlocked her door even as she continued calling out, “Everything’s just fine. There’s no problem.”
Then she jumped into the building and hurried to open the door to her own apartment, hoping to get in before Mr. Kaminsky came out and started yelling down the stairs.
Once she shut the door behind her, she and Alex fell to laughing like little children who’d pulled a trick on their baby-sitter, but then the laughter faded and they were in each other’s arms again. It had seemed like a lifetime since she’d seen him. More than a lifetime since she’d held him.
She let her lips whisper all the things to his soul that her heart could never say aloud. How she’d missed him. How in just a few short weeks her life had learned to revolve around him. How she couldn’t keep her silly smile under control now that he was here. Finally she pulled away slightly, just enough to rest her head on his heaving chest.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was just in the neighborhood,” he replied.
“You have a client in South Bend?”
“Close.”
“I’m glad you came.”
He looked into her eyes like he was trying to look into her soul, like he was trying to find answers to questions he didn’t even know he was asking. “I am, too,” he said slowly.
Then there was no more need for words. He bent his head and took her lips again. There was a hunger in them, a savagery that her own needs met in kind. She opened her mouth to his longing just as she wanted to open her heart and herself to him. She had never felt this way before—so much like she belonged to someone. It was confusing. It was scary. It was wonderful.
He pulled back, struggling visibly for breath as he leaned against the living-room wall. “So how’s your class?” he asked. “They do okay without you?”
“Just fine.” Her voice was no stronger than his. “I told them about the transplant. They were really interested.”
He nodded. “How’re you feeling?”
“Good.” A smile crept over her lips even as her hand crept out to run lightly over his cheek. “I miss her terribly, but it’s getting better.”
He captured her hand and held it against his face for the longest of minutes before bringing it down to his mouth. He kissed her palm and lightning seemed to crash through the air around them. Heat raced up her arm and exploded into flames in her heart. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She could only want, and that she did very well.
She wiggled her hand from his and slid her arms back around him—wanting him, needing him close so that her heart would know a rhythm to beat to. It had been hell without him. She hadn’t known how to breathe or feel or laugh or play. She hadn’t known how alone she’d been until he’d come.
He pulled away slightly. “I thought of you.”
“Me, too.” She touched his chin gently, then his cheek and then his lips, drawing her fingers over them wi
th a soft touch. “Elvis isn’t nearly as much fun to aggravate at breakfast.”
“Glad I served a purpose.” His voice was ragged.
“We all need to feel useful.”
“Speaking of feeling…”
His lips came down on hers again and the fire took over. There was no time to think or analyze. Sensation after sensation washed over her. It was wonder and splendor and magical rides on a roller coaster. Her heart was flying and knew no boundaries.
Her hands slid over his chest and slipped the buttons free so that they could touch his chest, run through the hair and feel the cool smoothness of his skin. He was hers in so many ways.
His touch said he felt the same, as his hands roamed over her back, then found their way under her blouse. She came alive at his caress, found life in a way that she’d never known before. She closed her eyes, giving herself up to the wonders of his embrace.
“Do we have a thing for foyers?” he whispered in her ear.
She opened her eyes and looked around. They were still standing just inside the door. “Maybe we just can’t wait,” she said, smiling up into his hungry eyes.
She took his hand and led him down the hall. In the quiet stillness of her room, she helped him undress, then undress her. The sunlight streamed in, lighting her bed with warmth and rapture. She lay there, her eyes feasting on his lean body, and letting his gaze devour her. Then his hands took the place of his eyes, touching and feeling and bringing every inch of her to hot expectation. There was nothing but fire and passion in the room, nothing but delight in the touch of their hands.
When she could no longer wait, she took him inside her, welcoming him into her warmth and heat as her lips sang a song of awe into his heart. They danced and flew and moved to the rhythm of their souls until all marvels exploded and they were bound together by the power of their needs.
Then they lay softly, barely moving, as peace came to claim them. His lips touched her forehead, not in passion but almost in reverence. She just closed her eyes and prayed for the moment never to end.
“You’re sure this isn’t a problem,” Alex said.
On Mother's Day (Great Expectations #1) Page 16