Love Me

by Diane Alberts

  By the time she left, Thomas had already withdrawn, calm and in control again. He picked up his fork. “Look. I’ll get better at this…relationship thing. With time. Just don’t give up on me yet.” He set his fork down and captured her hand. He kissed her knuckles.

  She squeezed his hand, her heart twisting. “Okay.”

  He let go and cut into his steak, his head bowed. How hard must it have been for him to make that simple admission?

  She cleared her throat. “I haven’t been attracted to anyone since Michael. You…you make things different. You make me different.”

  “You mean I refuse to leave you alone until you snap?”

  She scowled. “You really know how to ruin a moment.”

  “Were we having a moment?” His eyes remained lowered, his fingers tight on his fork.

  “Damn it, Thomas—”

  He leaned across the table and kissed her. His lips were soft, his breathing harsh; he lingered over the kiss, caressing her mouth until her chest tightened. Each touch of his lips spoke of so many things unsaid. So much emotion, showing her what he couldn’t say.

  When he drew back, his eyes were warm. “Time, Bree. And a chance.”

  “Two weeks.” She bit her lip. “I can give you that.”

  His smile was oddly shy, oddly boyish—and it was enough to almost destroy her. “I’ll try to make it worth it.”

  They fell into companionable silence over their food. Brianna couldn’t help stealing little glances at him, only to catch his eye, flush, and look away. When they were finished, the waitress brought the check. Brianna reached for her purse, but Thomas covered her hand.

  “No. It’s on me.”

  She hesitated. On the few dates she’d gone on since Michael, she had paid her way. She could certainly afford to. “I can pay for mine.”

  “You can. But tonight you don’t have to.” His fingers slid over the backs of her knuckles, then fell away. “Drop the independent businesswoman act. I’m not patronizing you.”

  She hated that, she thought. Hated that he got to the heart of issues she wouldn’t even acknowledge, with so few words. She closed her mouth and looked away as he left a folded stack of bills on the table, then stood and offered his hand.

  She slid her palm into his. His skin against hers was electrifying, and her scalp tingled. “Thank you for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” His grip tightened. “Does our two-week agreement mean I don’t have to hold any more articles of clothing hostage if I want to see you again?”

  “Depends. How long do you think it’ll take you to recover from Zach’s full moon serenade?”

  He snorted. “Please. I’m tougher than that.”

  Outside the restaurant, he pulled her into his arms. She caught her breath and looked up at him. His eyes were intent on her, their heat making her melt. She could lose herself in this man, she thought. Lose herself and never come out again—and that was dangerous. So dangerous she’d kept herself from touching him all night, but now she finally let herself run her fingers over his jaw.

  His five o’clock shadow scratched her fingertips. How long had it been since she’d felt a man’s rough stubble? He rubbed his cheek against her palm; the velvet brown of his eyes never left her. Her heart lurched. He made her want things she’d thought long out of reach. Made her hope for something more than a life as a grieving widow.

  “Want to come up to my room?” he asked, his voice raspy.

  God, she wanted to. But would it be the best choice? If they wanted to see if they had something real between them, maybe they should take things slower. Not jump right into bed again. Thomas had asked for time and a chance. But she needed distance. She couldn’t let herself get too invested when they didn’t even know if they were going to be together two weeks from now.

  “I do, but I think I shouldn’t.” She took a step back and squared her shoulders. “We need to see if we have something real before we do that. I owe it to myself and my kids.”

  He nodded. “All right.”

  She took a deep breath. It was harder to say no than she’d expected. Would it really be so bad to get lost in his arms again? “So what comes next?”

  The struggle on his face said every word was precious. “We date each other. Take things slow.”

  “I have a question.”

  He cocked a brow. “You don’t need my permission to ask one.”

  Well, duh. She just needed to get the nerve to ask him, since it might be a deal breaker. “If we decide, after two weeks, to take this further…will you be able to stay in Vegas? Is there a way you could move here?”

  He hesitated. “They want me to take a position here permanently. I was not interested in it. But if things work out…” He shrugged, his face closed off. “Who knows? I’m not promising long-term yet. I just want to take it slow and see where it goes. All right?”

  She hesitated, but he stole her chance to reply. Stole her senses when he pressed his lips to hers, slanting to meld their mouths together in a perfect lock. She shivered and twined her arms around his neck. His hand pressed to the small of her back, possessively drawing her closer. His tongue slipped into her mouth, stroking her gently, exploring with a slow, careful need. She moaned and curled her fingers in his shirt collar, tugging him closer still.

  With each caress of his tongue, he seemed to pull her deeper into him, until she no longer remembered how it felt not to be in his arms. By the time he pulled away, she wasn’t sure if her legs would support her. He looked down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded.

  “So tell me,” he whispered. “When can I see you again? We could stay in with the kids. Give me a chance to meet them. We’ll tell them I’m a friend—nothing more.”

  She released his shirt and stepped back. She immediately missed the warmth of his arms, but the warmth of his words kept her burning inside. He actually wanted to spend time with her kids. Get to know them. Her brain screamed at her. Keep him away from her kids. Keep him away from her, until she could actually be certain of what they could be.

  But her heart already hoped for what they would be and it spoke too loudly for her to ignore.

  “All right,” she said. “We can try that. Friday night at my place? Be prepared for a second helping of bare butt cheeks.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh, God. That came out wrong.” She buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t— I mean, not my— I meant his. Wait, that’s worse.” She groaned. “I’m going to shut up now.”

  His deep, husky laughter wrapped around her. “Yours or his. I can handle the challenge.”

  She had no doubt of that.

  Chapter Nine

  Thomas stood at the end of the pathway to Brianna’s house. Déjà vu all over again, only this time he wasn’t waiting for Jerry Springer.

  He was waiting for the earth to swallow him whole.

  Kids. And he was about to spend the entire evening with them.

  What the hell did he think he was doing?

  He’d never wanted kids. He didn’t know how to talk to children. How to make them like him. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t let himself be intimidated by children. He’d have to get past this hurdle if he wanted to date Brianna. Date the mother, date her kids. That was the rule. He wasn’t the type to get cold feet, so it was time to get those feet moving.

  He’d almost shown up with gifts but they’d only think he was trying to buy their approval. Anyone would think that, and they’d be right. It was a cheap ploy, one that wouldn’t win him any points in the long run.

  This isn’t a game. Get out of the marketing mindset.

  And get moving.

  He cursed to himself. He could do this. He headed up the walk and hit the doorbell. The door swung open almost immediately—and the entire reason he was here stood in front of him, smiling up at him with a dazzling warmth, her hair loose around her shoulders and making her look more carefree than he’d ever seen her, in a pale yellow sundress. She’d left the businesswoman
at the office.

  So he could leave his issues at the door.

  He leaned in and kissed her cheek, breathing in her scent. “Hello, sweetheart.”

  “Hello.” She flushed. “You smell good.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  She laughed. “You think you smell good, too?”

  “Fabulous.”

  From over her shoulder, Zach sneered, “Why is he here? I told you I didn’t want to meet him.”

  “And I told you to act your age and accept that he was coming whether you liked it or not,” Brianna said, hands on her hips. “Mind your manners or you can forget about going to the movies with your cousin tomorrow.”

  Thomas hovered in the doorway. He was more out of place than a gazelle among lions—and just as vulnerable to attack. He tried a smile. It felt like his marketing smile, frozen and oily. “Hi. I’m Thomas. I’m one of your mom’s work friends.”

  Zach rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure you are.”

  Brianna stiffened. “Zach, I swear to God, you will be—”

  “—staying home if I keep it up. Yeah. I know.” Zach looked Thomas up and down, then left the room, calling over his shoulder, “But it might be worth the punishment. I can catch the movie when it comes out on Netflix.”

  Brianna closed her eyes, her fists tight at her sides, and counted from one to five soundlessly. His amusement rose with each number. When she opened her eyes with a calm smile, he tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “Feel better?”

  “Not really,” she said. “A little. I’m sorry. He’ll be stubborn, I’m afraid. He misses his dad. Don’t let it bother you.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” He pulled her into his arms. She rested her cheek on his chest. She felt so perfect against him. He was tempted to tell her—tell her how right she felt in his arms. But he couldn’t. Not when he could still hear Nicole mocking him for daring to express human emotion. He took a slow breath and chose his words carefully. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Really?”

  No. “Sure.”

  She exhaled and pulled free from his arms, curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, dragged him down, and kissed him hungrily. He stumbled only momentarily before he crushed her in his arms—where she damned well belonged. When she dipped her tongue into his mouth, he sank deeper into her, seizing a desperate and ruthless control. God, no woman had ever kissed him like this. Wild. Hungry. Savage.

  He buried his fingers into her hair and backed her against the wall. She tore free, panting. He bent to kiss her again but she stayed him with a finger to his lips.

  “We can’t. The kids are in the other room.”

  Reality hit him harder than a kick to the nuts. He forced himself to pull back. “Shit. Sorry.”

  “That’s a bad word,” a prim little girl said from the doorway. Katelyn, he guessed, with her neat blond curls and her mother’s ladylike demeanor. She carried a Nintendo 3DS in her tiny hands and watched Thomas curiously. “Mama says for bad words you have to put a quarter in the swear jar.”

  Brianna’s lips twitched at the corners. “Well…he doesn’t live here, so he doesn’t have to play by our rules.”

  The girl’s face fell. “That’s not fair.”

  “She’s right. That’s not fair.” Thomas felt around in his pocket and withdrew a quarter. “I’ll pay up. I shouldn’t curse around pretty ladies.”

  “See, Mommy?” Katelyn smiled, her eyes bright. They were her mother’s eyes, hazel and clear. “I was right. It was a bad word.”

  Thomas knelt before her. “Why don’t you show me where the swear jar is?”

  “It’s in the kitchen.” She offered her hand.

  He curled her fingers inside his larger ones, dwarfing her. It was the strangest feeling—that tiny hand in his, trusting and fragile and soft. His heart thumped oddly. He met Brianna’s gaze over Katelyn’s head.

  Thank you, she mouthed. He nodded.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Katelyn led him into the kitchen and pointed at a grape jelly jar on the counter. A hole had been cut into the lid, and a piece of paper had been taped to it. Bad Word Jar. It was spelled wrong, and the d was a b, but he got the gist. There was a surprising amount of money in the jar, and he dropped his quarter into it.

  “I get to keep the money.” Katelyn’s chest puffed out. “It was my idea. Most of the money is from Mama, but some is from Zach. I’ve never had to put in money.”

  Thomas chuckled and knelt again. “Because you’re a good girl, right?”

  “Right.” She beamed, her 3DS clutched tightly to her chest. “I like him, Mama.”

  One kid down, two to go.

  “I do, too,” Brianna said.

  Thomas looked over his shoulder. Brianna leaned against the kitchen counter, a small smile softening her lips. His stomach tightened. He stood and wiped his hands on his jeans.

  “There’s a lot of money in there. Why am I not surprised you curse like a sailor?”

  “Worse,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “But I’m working on it. I try to save the cursing for after they’re asleep.”

  A young boy came into the room—had to be Cody. He eyed Thomas with disinterest. “When are we eating?”

  Brianna retrieved a Domino’s menu from the counter. “I’ll order the pizza now.”

  Cody nodded. “Katelyn, come on. You were gonna play Transformers with me.”

  “Only if I get to be Megatron!” Katelyn followed Cody from the kitchen, but paused to wave at Thomas before leaving him alone with Brianna. Brianna glanced at him.

  “Pepperoni okay? It’s the only thing Cody will eat.”

  “Fine by me.”

  She called the order in. He leaned against the counter and fidgeted. He’d barely seen the kids for even a moment and already felt like he’d made a fool of himself. Katelyn seemed to like him well enough but boys were always a harder sell.

  And there was no way he’d win over the mother without winning over the kids.

  After Brianna hung up, she said, “Food will be here in twenty.”

  “All right.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around the kitchen. Only one picture of Michael was in the room but it stared down at him from the wall frame. Accusing him. Mocking him. Cursing him for touching his wife. Would the man haunt him for the entire night?

  Or worse…for the rest of his life?

  Chapter Ten

  As she poured iced tea into glasses, Brianna watched Thomas—but she wasn’t really seeing him. At least, not the man who stood in her kitchen. No, she couldn’t forget the momentary look of panic, masterfully hidden save for a flicker in his eyes, when he’d taken Katelyn’s hand. As if he feared he’d ruin even such a simple gesture. He always seemed so certain he’d do or say the wrong thing if he wasn’t schmoozing. All it took was one perceived misstep for the quiet, honest man she was coming to know to retreat behind the slick, smiling corporate mannequin.

  She didn’t know why he was like that, but she had a feeling it had everything to do with his ex-wife. There was a certain desperation to Thomas underneath that carefully crafted exterior. A desperation, she thought, to be understood. To understand himself. As if he was stuck in the path he’d made for himself, and unable to break free. A prisoner of his past.

  Lining the glasses up on a tray, she asked, “Do you want to spend some time with the kids before dinner?”

  He tensed. “Sure.”

  “Hey. They aren’t time bombs. They won’t spontaneously combust if you look at them wrong.” She touched his arm. “Well, Zach might. But he’ll warm up to you. Don’t take it personally.”

  Thomas smiled briefly but his eyes had the look of a cornered animal, wild and wary. “I know.”

  “Then once more into the breach?”

  “Looks like.”

  He picked up the tray and strode into the living room. She followed—and walked into a scene of chaos. Cody was on the floor,
surrounded by a tumble of toys; Zach was sprawled in a chair with his iPod, shutting out the world with his earbuds. Katelyn had her face scrunched up, her eyes squeezed closed, her mouth open…and as the tears gushed down, she let out a shrieking, pitiful wail.

  Brianna rushed to her side, but somehow Thomas managed to put down the tray and still get there first. He dropped to one knee next to Katelyn and, before she could take a breath for another shriek, scooped her into his arms. Brianna fought the urge to snatch her child away from him. As if he would harm Katelyn or something. But he wasn’t a strange man. He was her— Okay, she didn’t know what he was. But she held her breath and held back, even if it took all her willpower. She had to give him a chance.

  Thomas nudged Katelyn under her chin, urging her to look at him. “Hey now, munchkin. No need for all that. What’s wrong?”

  “C-Cody won’t let me be M-M-Megatron.” She screwed up her face, looking at him with huge, pleading eyes.

  Cody thrust his lower lip out with a scowl. “They’re my Transformers. I can be whoever I want. And I want to be Megatron.”

  Brianna sighed. Damn it, she’d had this talk with Cody before. He never wanted to share and was always horrible about hoarding his toys until his sister cried. All it did was reinforce the idea that Katelyn would get her way if she cried, and Brianna had been trying to break her of that. “Young man, you—”

  “That’s all right,” Thomas said. Brianna stared at him. What was he doing? But he only shrugged, offering Cody an easy smile. “You can be Megatron. Katelyn and I are going to play something better than Transformers.”

  Katelyn’s eyes widened. “Better than Transformers?”

  “Mmm hmm. We’re going to play cops and robbers. I’ll be the cop. You can be the robber.”

  “Robbers are big and scary,” Katelyn said solemnly, sniffling.

  Thomas tapped the tip of Katelyn’s nose. “Just like Megatron.”

  The little girl’s face lit up in a brilliant smile, but Cody’s expression darkened. He huffed and folded his arms over his chest. “Hey! You can’t play without me!”