“So, what do you want to do after dinner?” Alex asked as he pulled away and went back to unpacking the groceries. “Want to go down to the Comedy Club?”
She shrugged, feeling just a little uneasy away from his touch. It was almost like there was a storm coming. Not close enough to see, but close enough for the barometric pressure to drop.
“I don’t care,” she said and started unpacking a bag. “Do we have to do anything? We could just rent some movies.”
“That’d be great.” He put her ice cream into the freezer, then took the lettuce out of her hands.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Putting away the groceries,” he said as he opened the refrigerator. “You just relax and put your feet up.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Maybe I’ll run out and get the movies before I start dinner,” he said and folded up the last bag. “You know, get there before all the good ones are rented.”
“If you want,” she said, although her unease seemed to be growing. There was no reason for it. He was being extraattentive. He was everything a woman could ask for, so why was it her heart was seeing shadows? Maybe he liked a more action-packed life than they’d had the first few days. That was no reason to get scared.
“Why don’t we go together?” she suggested. Maybe there was something in the air here that was making her crazy. She’d get out and find that the only shadows were in her imagination.
“We can make it a date,” he said and brushed her lips in passing as he went to put the grocery bags away. “You know, I was thinking I should zip back to my apartment tomorrow.”
Her heart almost froze. He was leaving. She had sensed it, had felt it in the air.
“If I leave before lunch, I should be back by dinnertime,” he said.
She let her breath out in a rush. “You’re coming back?”
He turned to frown at her, then came over to take her in his arms. “Hey, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”
His lips took hers again. This time the touch was stronger, more determined, more filled with his passion and desire. She felt a hunger rush up inside her, answering the love that she felt in his touch, that she heard in his words. There was warmth and safety and honesty in his embrace. And nothing at all to fear.
He pulled back, but still held her loosely in his arms. “You plan us a special evening for tomorrow,” he said, coming back for a quick taste of her lips. “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”
“All right, already,” Alex said. “Here’s some for you little guys.”
He stood on the bank and threw the scraps of bread onto the lake as far as he could to his right where some ducks were waiting. Then he did the same to his left. And finally he deposited a couple of handfuls immediately in front of him.
“You two are just big bullies,” he told the swans. “You want everything your way.”
But wasn’t he just like that himself? Saying he wanted Fiona’s happiness, then letting the truth about Fogarty eat away at him until he felt like Atlas carrying the weight of the world.
The white pair swam in graceful circles before him, quickly grabbing the crusts, while on either side of them various breeds of ducks scrambled and squabbled, snatching up any stray morsel that came close. Alex threw another handful to the swans and then dumped the remainder of his goodies where the ducks could get them.
This wasn’t the first time he’d run across something unexpected, something with the potential to hurt, but it was the first time the hurt would go to someone he cared about. And the first time he had the option to remain silent. Fiona hadn’t hired him to find out about Fogarty; he’d done it on his own. So the results were his own to keep or share as he saw fit.
Just how did he see fit?
He sat down on the bank and stared out at the swans. They just stared back, sharing no insights into the longevity of relationships, why they liked soggy bread crusts or what he should do. They were not much help.
Alex looked away, glancing at the woods around him. It was nice here, and quiet. Nicer now than it had been when he and Fiona were here almost a month ago. Now the trees were all leafing out and the air was warmer. And he and Fiona were much closer. So why did it feel like winter was about to descend?
He looked back at the birds. “It wasn’t as easy as I thought it’d be,” he told them. “It was like I was living a lie last night.”
The swans paused in their gliding to look at him.
“But what difference should it make? So what, if she believes something that’s not true? Who’s it going to hurt?”
A brown duck came over to stare at him.
“It’s not like it’s a life-and-death situation,” he told them. “It’s not even something that affects her and me.”
The duck dove for something under the water, then swam away—probably only willing to listen to whining if he was being fed.
“And it’s nothing like what happened to me,” Alex went on. “There’s nobody around acting the part of her great-great-grandfather so that she thinks that’s who he is. And she’s not going around capitalizing on this supposed relationship, so she’s not going to find out when some nosy jerk shoots her down. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t go right on hanging on to Fogarty’s coattails if that makes her happy. No reason at all. Not one teeny-tiny one.”
The swans moved away, as if sensing the conflict in his voice. Once they were gone, the ducks came careening in, circling in their space and muttering at him. But they wanted food, not philosophy.
“I’m all out.” He spread his empty hands as if to show them. “That’s it. No more.”
The swans seemed to believe him, as their circles took them farther and farther away from him; while the ducks, skeptics that they were, stayed around quacking and otherwise making nuisances of themselves.
“Hey, so I didn’t bring enough. So sue me.”
Everybody wanted something from him. The ducks just wanted food. Fiona wanted someone that she could rely on. She wanted someone who put her happiness and well-being ahead of his own.
Maybe he didn’t bring enough, ever. Maybe he didn’t bring enough bread for the ducks and maybe he didn’t bring enough to his relationship with Fiona. Maybe he just didn’t have enough to give anyone.
“That’s stupid,” he said, rising to his feet. “I just need to try harder. Get out of my rut.”
He just had to believe that he could make a relationship work. That was all it would take.
And he had the next several hours to figure it out. He needed to pick up his mail and check his apartment. Four hours, max. Long enough to come up with some faith.
“How do you like it?” Fiona heard the worry in her voice and wished she could have bought a little more gumption as easily as she’d bought Alex this shirt. “It looks like it fits okay.” “Fits great,” he said, his voice enthusiastic.
She looked at his face in the mirror as she ran her fingers across his broad shoulders. He looked like he liked it. And he sounded like he did, but he was such a nice guy, he could just be saying that. She should never have bought the shirt, no matter how much she liked it. They weren’t at that point in their relationship.
“Cassie said you’d hate it.”
“Well, Cassie’s wrong. It’s great.” He turned to kiss her with sweet tenderness. “I’ve never had a cowboy shirt before.”
“I was afraid it was too early in our relationship.”
Confusion danced across his brown eyes. “Is there some schedule we’re supposed to be following?” he asked. “No cowboy shirts before a certain date? You’d better get me a copy. I don’t want to make a mistake.”
She knew she was being silly, even without his good-natured teasing, and just shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never gotten this far in a relationship before. I just didn’t want to get too presumptuous.”
“You worry far too much,” he said, touching her cheek with a gentle hand. For a moment, his eyes took on a sha
dow as if some cloud had passed in front of his sun, but then he smiled. And the hint of shadows disappeared like a bad dream. Or like something she’d imagined. “Now where’s my cowboy hat and horsey?”
She was such a worrier, she scolded herself. She needed to just relax and do what felt right. She forced herself to laugh. “If you really want a cowboy hat, we can swing by Dudes and Darlin’s on the way to the restaurant,” Fiona replied. “But you’ll have to handle the horsey part yourself.”
He looked sad. “If I can’t have a horsey, then what’s the use of a cowboy hat?”
“Oh, stop whining.” Fiona threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself to him. “Now, do you really like your shirt?”
“I love it.”
His arms wrapped themselves around her, powerful wellmuscled arms. A hungry smile filled his face and eyes as his lips came down to hers. There was such need in his touch, such desperation, that her heart seemed to swell in response. She wanted to give him everything. She wanted to ease his hurts and calm his fears. She wanted to give him all the love her heart held and more. She just had to stop getting caught up in her own silly worries.
Ever so slowly she was letting Kate go. It was hard, having memories of the girl to tug at her heart, but she knew it was for the best. Kate was getting better and slipping back further each day into her own life. And that was the way it should be.
But it was different with Alex. He was becoming more and more important to her. She knew there would come a day when he’d go back to his life, too; but she wouldn’t let herself look at that. There was time enough for loneliness later.
The heat of his passion started to melt her coherency and she only knew her own needs and her own hungers. His touch ignited her desires, sending shivers of want all through her. That delectable knot tightened up in her soul, wanting him to find her release. She moved closer into his embrace, her mouth on his with silent words of love passing between them.
When they finally separated, Fiona could barely catch her breath. “Hey, cowboy,” she said. “That was some thank-you.”
All he did was laugh, a tight little croak that he seemed to have difficulty pushing out. Fiona’s stomach told her that she was ready for dinner, but the rest of her had other hungers.
“Our table’s reserved for six-thirty.” Fiona snuggled into his arms. “Wanna be late?”
He gave her a quick kiss, then eased her away. “Let’s go eat,” he said, regret in his voice. “I’m hungry and we have the rest of our lives for everything else.”
The rest of our lives? Fiona rushed off to finish dressing, her heart on high.
He loved her. He must. He wouldn’t be talking about the rest of their lives if he didn’t. The certainty of that fact melted her heart just like the hot July sun of an Indiana summer softened the blacktop country roads.
Prophesies by mysterious old women weren’t all they were cracked up to be, Fiona thought as she pulled on a new pair of jeans. Her and Alex’s souls were fueled with love, each wrapped so tightly around the other that nothing could pull them apart. Fighting for Alex’s love would be like fighting for the heart that beat within her breast. It was already there. There was no need to fight, just accept.
She went back into the living room, grabbing her purse from the counter as she waved to the cats.
“Bye, guys.” They were sleeping on the sofa, one on each end, and chose to ignore her. “Well, don’t get so upset. Don’t even bother to wake up. We can see our way out.”
Alex took her by the arm and pulled her to go out. “Cats are a gift from the gods,” he said.
“Oh, yeah? What are they good for?”
“They make sure we stay humble.”
“Well, they’ve made me very good at that.”
“You’re very good at lots of things, actually,” he said.
“You’re so sweet,” she replied, giving him another kiss.
Once they’d parted, he closed the door behind them. “How come we’re dressed like cowboys?” he asked. “We taking a spin down to Texas for a barbecue?”
“There’s a country-and-western nightclub downtown,” she explained.
“And they have a dress code?”
“No, they have dance lessons every Saturday night.”
“Dance lessons?” A quizzical look came over his face as he stopped halfway down the steps. “You’re kidding?”
“I thought it would be fun,” she said softly.
All her worries came flooding back. Why hadn’t she dated more? Just because she hadn’t ever met that certain someone who felt like the other half of her soul was no reason. She should have been dating just for practice, so that she wouldn’t be so scared she was going to break some unwritten relationship rule.
“Dance lessons sound good to me,” he said, as they continued down the stairs.
“Really? Remember you’re Mr. Honesty.”
That darkness came back to his eyes. Was it pain? It clutched at her heart like a steel claw, sending icy shivers all through her.
She tried to smile. “Hey, we can do something else, if you’re not into line dancing.”
He grinned and the darkness left his eyes. He reached over for her hand. “I was just worrying about stomping on your pretty feet,” he said. “Just as long as you realize that you’re going to have to move fast to stay safe.”
She wanted to believe him. “No problem,” she said. “I’m known as fast-footed Fiona.”
As they reached the sidewalk, she stopped, waiting for him to lead her to his car du jour. She didn’t see the blue Ford he’d been driving so he must have traded it in for something else.
“Here we are.” He led her to a new-looking Jeep Cherokee right in front of her building.
“This doesn’t look very used,” she said.
“Less than a couple hundred miles.”
“Goodness,” she said. “How did it get on your friend’s used-car lot?”
“It didn’t.” He shrugged at her silent question. “I kind of bought it.”
“You bought a new car?” She turned to stare at him. This meant something. She wasn’t sure what, but she knew it represented a change. And one that should send her worries packing.
“It’s a beautiful car.”
“Want to drive?” Alex asked, holding out the keys.
“You trust me?”
“With my life.”
She reached out and grasped the keys, feeling like she’d grabbed the key hanging off the end of Ben Franklin’s kite. Her arm trembled as the electrical energy of the universe poured through her. He trusted her! Wasn’t that another way of saying he loved her?
“Come on,” Alex said. “Or we’ll be late and for no good reason.”
Laughing, she grabbed the keys and ran around to the driver’s door. The wonderful new-car smell welcomed her. She put the key in, starting the motor. It wasn’t until she was shifting the car into gear that she noticed Alex pounding on the window.
“Sorry,” she said, after unlocking the door.
“What were you going to do?” he asked, his voice filled with a growl. “Take the car to dinner and leave me out in the parking lot?”
“If you’re not nice,” she replied. “Yes.”
The car was great, purring beneath her like a lion held in check. How could he let her drive it? If it was hers, she’d want to be behind the wheel all the time. No, she’d be willing to share with him. She drove downtown—all too short a drive, suddenly—and pulled into a parking spot down the street from the club.
They got out of the car and walked hand in hand down the street. It was still light out, and other couples were strolling by, but somehow they seemed all alone; wrapped in a warmth that surrounded just the two of them. It was a nice feeling, a feeling of belonging and oneness. But then she saw their reflection in a passing window and some warp in the glass made Alex seem more distant, as if he was somehow pulling away from her.
She had to push her worries aside, bury them once and for
all. “So how come you went and bought a car?” she asked. “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to need something different before you’re done paying for this?”
He just shrugged. “Seemed like the thing to do.”
Spending twenty-thousand dollars on a car seemed like the thing to do? They were so different; sometimes it scared her. “You make it sound like a whim,” she said. “I don’t even buy a dress impulsively, but think through when I’ll wear it and how many times and would I get my money’s worth.”
“You’re not a risk taker,” he said.
“And you are?”
He didn’t answer and just opened the door to the club. A wave of laughter and music and noise washed over them.
“Come on,” she teased. “Great-great-grandpa Horace says you’ve got to tell me the truth.”
“What’s with this Horace Fogarty stuff all the time?” he snapped. “You’d think you didn’t exist if it wasn’t for him.”
She was taken aback by the vehemence of his response, but just grinned at him. “Well, actually, most of us wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for our ancestors.”
He sighed as the maître d’ came over toward them. Fiona gave her name and the man led them to a table up near the dance floor where you could hardly hear, let alone think.
“You know what I mean,” he said above the music. “Sometimes I think you believe your only value lies in your relation to someone famous.”
“It’s not that at all,” she said. “You make it sound like I’m conceited.”
He shook his head as they sat down. “No, you have about the lowest self-esteem I’ve ever seen. You should like yourself and feel you’re worth something even if you don’t know any of your ancestors. Or if they were just all bums.”
He looked so serious, so worried about her that she just squeezed his hand with a laugh. “How did we get on such a serious subject?” she asked. “This is a night for dancing and partying, not gloom.”
He held her hand tightly and smiled at her. It looked forced for only a minute, then his eyes were filled with sunshine. “You’re right,” he said. “So when are we going to learn line dancing?”
On Mother's Day (Great Expectations #1) Page 20