CARRIED AWAY

by Donna Kauffman

  "What I don't want is you questioning what we have together," he said tersely. "You need to make up your mind. Do you want us enough to work for it? Or don't you? I'm not asking for a lifetime commitment right this second, though you should know I'd take it in a heartbeat. I just want to know if this is important enough to you to give it a shot. If I'm important to you." He turned toward the bathroom. "Let's start with that."

  "Wait." She finally found her voice, but she still didn't know what to say. This whole thing had taken her by surprise. Maybe it shouldn't have; she'd been pushing him hard enough. But she was stunned nevertheless. She needed time. She needed Viv. She needed a drink … or whatever the equivalent was at nine in the morning. "Where are you—"

  "I'm going for a run," he said, cutting her off. "A long one." Without looking at her, he closed the bathroom door behind him.

  Christy stared at the door and felt the first stirrings of panic. It was only a piece of wood, but he'd never purposely shut her out before. It might as well have been a solid foot of concrete. Suddenly the idea of pushing him didn't seem so wise. She didn't want to lose him. She'd just wanted things to stay simple, not get all complicated.

  Well, he'd gone and changed that now. She didn't know if she wanted to dance on her mattress … or throw something at the door. How dare he put it all in her lap?

  She dragged herself out of bed, pulling on sweats and a T-shirt and not bothering to comb her hair. She grabbed her socks, then sunk back down on the edge of the bed as it hit her all over again. He loved her. Really and truly. Talk about a shoe dropping!

  She realized she hadn't given him the words back. She looked at the door he'd closed between them.

  "Honey, where's the sweetener?"

  Christy groaned. Trevor had done the impossible. He'd made her forget about her mother. "In the blue-covered dish by the fridge," she yelled down the stairs. This was the worst possible time for Trevor to have dropped this bomb on her. She needed to think. She needed to place an emergency call to Sweden. She needed … time.

  She darted a look at the door and realized she wasn't ready to face him again, so she quickly went downstairs to unashamedly hide behind her mother. After all, if she was going to have to suffer the conversation she knew was in the offing, the least her mother could do in return was provide a decent demilitarized zone.

  She'd just stepped into the kitchen when Trevor jogged down the stairs and paused by the kitchen door. He was wearing ancient navy-blue sweats and a T-shirt with the sleeves torn out. She'd look like a bag lady in that getup. Trevor, on the other hand, looked totally studly.

  "It was a pleasure meeting you, ma'am," he said.

  "Ruby, please," her mother replied, all smiles. She obviously appreciated Trevor's military manners … and his fashion sense, as well.

  "Ruby," Trevor said, with a nod. "We're both off tonight if you'd like to join us for dinner. I don't know what your tastes are, but we can whip up something."

  Ruby looked to Christy in obvious delight at the invite. Christy pasted on a smile. Apparently Trevor was going to try some pushing of his own. Well, she wasn't sure she'd bear up under it with the same graciousness and understanding he had.

  "You have a date," Ruby told Trevor. "I look forward to getting to know you better."

  Trevor didn't even look at Christy. "So do I, Ruby. So do I." Then he was gone.

  Her mother leaned dramatically against the counter and fanned her face. "Well, my dear, you might be a late bloomer, but how clever of you to wait so you could snag the gardener himself."

  "Mom."

  Ruby waved her complaining tone away. "Oh, don't Mom me. If anyone is an expert about these things, it's me." She poured them both a mug of coffee then perched on one of the woven wicker chairs in the nook area. She patted the one next to her. "Come on, sit. Fill me in."

  Christy clasped her mug in both hands, but stayed where she was. She really needed to talk about the whole new turn her relationship with Trevor had taken. But her mother was the last person she wanted to have that talk with. Instead, she said, "What brings you to town?" Ruby loved nothing more than to talk about her latest adventures. For once, Christy was dying to hear about them. Anything to get the focus off of her and Trevor.

  Ruby wagged a perfectly manicured finger at her. "Don't think you're getting away with this. I'm not leaving here until I hear all the juicy details. But since you asked, I did come here to tell you something."

  "You're getting married again."

  Ruby didn't look offended by her less-than-enthusiastic tone. "Nope, not this time."

  Christy frowned. "You're not sick, are you?" For all that she and her mother had never had the most traditional relationship, Christy loved her mother unconditionally. She reached out and placed her hand on her mother's shoulder. "Tell me what's wrong." She sank down in the opposite chair.

  "Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," Ruby said with a smile. "Although I'm glad to see you'd worry about me if something was wrong. I guess I did something right with you after all."

  "Of course I'd worry about you," Christy said, then with a dry smile, she added, "and I'm a perfectly wonderful person, so you must have done everything right."

  "Yes, you are perfectly wonderful, but you deserve as much credit as I do, if not more, for turning out that way."

  "Thank you, but I'm hardly feeling wonderful at the moment," she murmured as she sipped her coffee, then wished the words back when the gleam came into her mother's eyes.

  "Looks like things are pretty serious with you and the hunk if he's comfortable enough inviting me to have dinner at your place. And I take it he cooks, too, since we both know I failed you horribly when it came to teaching you to make anything more than reservations. Although I suppose I could be coerced into learning to chop vegetables if it meant being near someone who looks like him. So, when did he move in?"

  Christy's head was already beginning to throb. "We're just dating. He—"

  Ruby snorted. "Remember who you're talking to. I saw the way he looked at you. I also happened to notice he was perfectly at ease in your bed." She wagged a finger. "And while you may not tell me everything—"

  "Gee, I wonder why?"

  Ruby continued, unfazed as always by sarcasm. "I do know that you don't jump into bed with anyone you're not really serious about. So you might as well just tell me. I know I can be … well, traditional about some things."

  Christy almost snorted coffee through her nose. "Traditional?"

  "I certainly am not one to—how does your generation put it? Shack up? You know how I feel about marriage." She eyed Christy closely, as if expecting a comeback, but Christy managed to look completely innocent.

  Ruby sighed. "Dear, I know I'm old-fashioned about some things. But I'm certainly hip enough to understand if you're living together. Of course, I'll want you to marry the man. And really, he is a total—"

  "He has is own place, Mom," Christy cut in. "Well, he's actually staying at Viv's house, but—"

  "He's living with Vivian, too?" Ruby said, stunned. "I can't believe you'd put up with—"

  "Mom, please! Viv is in Sweden. With Eric. Trevor is just subletting her place while she's gone. And we're just dating." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince more with that last part.

  "So Vivian finally wised up, did she?"

  Christy's mouth dropped open. "Wised up? I hardly think that—"

  "Actually, hardly thinking is usually better in these sorts of circumstances, dear. Instinct, that's what should rule. It's good she finally listened to her heart. Come now, don't look so shocked. You've always known those two were meant for one another."

  "But Eric—"

  "Wanted his career and he wanted his wife to support his choices. Men are like that. But trust me, sweetie, she could have had anything she wanted if she'd played her cards right. I was at the wedding, remember? I saw how he looked at her." She looked at her daughter and Christy knew where she was headed with that tra
in of thought.

  "What about Viv's career? Her choices?" Christy held up her hand. "Never mind. I don't want to have this discussion, okay?"

  "Well, I do. You might be surprised, given my history with men. But why is it, do you think, that I am usually the one who breaks things off? Hmm? Because I stand up for myself, that's why. And a lot of men my age … and a few that aren't," she added with a grin, "can't accept that. All of which means that they weren't right for me." She leaned forward.

  "Tell me this. Did she go running off to Eric … or did he come back here for her?"

  "He came back here, but—"

  "Exactly. They both have wants, both have aspirations, but ultimately, what is most important is that they have each other. They realize this now and they'll work for it."

  "Still—"

  Ruby just smiled. "Honey, I'm here to tell you, when you find the man that is your true mate, the one you can't stand to be without, well then, the rungs on the priority ladder get all rearranged. Careers are satisfying, yes, but growing old with someone who loves you? Who wants to share your good days and your bad? Who wants to raise a family with you? Careers sort of pale in comparison to that."

  Christy sat back, stunned by the passion she heard in her mother's voice. "But—"

  "Your father was that to me," she said quietly. "And I've never found another like him." Ruby stared into her mug. "Maybe I've been afraid, too. Watching the man you love more than anything slowly die in front of your eyes…" She shuddered and Christy covered her hand.

  "You never told me," she said, awed and humbled by the love her mother and father must have shared.

  "You had your own grief to deal with. And, I admit, I dealt with mine in my own way. Alone." Ruby looked up with tears in her beautiful eyes. "I never wanted to risk that kind of pain again. Maybe that's why I married men I knew couldn't stand up to me for long." She tried to smile. "You know, all the fun without the risk. But that's not enough. Not for me. And it shouldn't be for you." Her lips trembled and she gripped her daughter's hand with surprising strength. "It's not fun growing old alone, Christy. Nor is it fun to make do. And I won't make do, not any longer. Maybe it's too late, I don't know. Maybe Mr. Right has already passed me by. But I'm not willing to put up with Mr. Okay-For-Now anymore."

  Christy didn't know what to say. For the second time this morning she'd been left speechless by a passionate declaration from a person she loved.

  "I came back to Richmond because I want to be with you. You're my family and you're what's most important. I want to build a life here that includes you. If I get lucky in love, so be it. But I do know I love you best, so here is where I want to be. I hope that's okay with you."

  Christy launched out of her seat and pulled her mother into a tight hug, tears swimming in her eyes. "Of course it's okay. I love you best, too."

  She also realized something else. She thought her mother wouldn't understand what she was going through, when in fact, her mother was probably the perfect person to talk to. "I—I need to talk to you. About Trevor."

  Fresh tears sprang to her mother's eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

  "He—" Christy swallowed. "He told me he loves me."

  "Darling, that's wonderful!"

  Christy smiled, for the first time letting herself really believe it. "Yes," she said, almost in awe of the power of it. "Yes, it is."

  "So, what's the problem? He's gorgeous, he cooks, he obviously worships the ground you walk on. It looks like you're already setting up house together, no matter what you say." She looked down to where George was lying in a huge sprawl at their feet. "You've even started a family."

  Christy eyed George dolefully, but decided not to respond to that. "It's all happening so fast."

  "Is he pressuring you to marry him? Or something else you're not comfortable with?"

  "No, no, that's not it. He only told me he loved me just this morning."

  Ruby clapped her hands in delight, then looked dismayed. "Oh, and then I came barging in. Oh, dear. I'm so sorry!"

  "No, no. He told me after you barged in," Christy said, smiling. Then her smile faded. "He was sort of … angry when he said it. I guess I've been … well…"

  "Playing hard to get? Oh my, dear. If he's the right one, you should never play games."

  "I wasn't playing games," Christy said, indignant. "I just… It just seemed like it was moving so fast I mean—one minute he's dragging me out of Viv's bed and the next thing I know we're practically living together."

  "I'll want to hear more about that first part. But let me ask you something. Just what is the appropriate amount of time falling in love should take?"

  "I—" Christy closed her mouth. She had no idea. She'd never really thought about it that way.

  Her mother covered her hand again, and this time Christy drew strength from it. "Do you love him?"

  Christy took a deep breath, then let it out again. "When you talked about growing old together, spending good days and bad … I realized I can't imagine that with anyone else but him." She smiled, feeling both panicky and joyous. "That must be love, right?"

  Her mother beamed. "Sounds like it to me."

  "But it's all so scary," Christy said, almost to herself.

  "Yes, dear, it is." Her mother smiled knowingly. "But trust me, it's the best kind of scary in the world."

  "That's basically what Viv told me," she said shakily.

  Her mother took her hand again, but this time Christy felt something entirely new. Real understanding, and trust.

  "You should listen to her. And me. But most of all, listen to your heart."

  Christy nodded. "Now I just have to convince him I really do know what I want I haven't exactly inspired confidence in that area lately."

  Her mother beamed, patted her hand and pulled them both up to a stand. "Well, you've come to the right place."

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^

  Trevor wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived back at Christy's place. In fact, he thought about avoiding it altogether and going over to the compound to get some work done. He told himself it was to let Christy and her mom have more time, but he knew better. He was afraid. Afraid he'd pushed too hard, too fast. Which was why he continued to head for the condo. No way was he going to let her run from this.

  So maybe he shouldn't have pushed it this particular morning. Of all the moments to finally tell her he loved her, the morning her mother shows up was probably not the best one. He'd run ten miles and her stunned reaction was still etched in his memory. He could probably run a marathon and still see that expression clearly in his mind.

  He'd been so patient fully prepared to take as long as necessary to convince her that this was the real thing. What would she do now that he'd pushed her to make a decision? Would she back away from the relationship? Tell him she needed her space, or something equally frustrating? He stopped and braced his hands on his knees, sweat running freely down his face now. Why in the hell had he pushed her? Things had been going great between them. If he'd just waited… He stretched and continued walking. But dammit, he loved her! And he wanted the freedom of being able to tell her so whenever he felt like it, which, lately had been at least a hundred times a day.

  And, honestly, he was dying to hear those words from her lips. Sure, he loved her confidence and her certainty about things, just as he loved her vulnerabilities, including her hang-ups about relationships. The very fact that she'd welcomed him into her home, into her bed, told him he was special to her. But he wanted more. He wanted the words. It shocked him how badly he needed the words.

  He stopped at the door to the stairwell that led to her condo. So, what's the strategy now, McQuillen?

  The words had been said, he couldn't take them back. And, he realized now, he didn't want to. Maybe this was the only way they were going to push their relationship to the next level. She knew by now she could trust him. And she had to know how she felt about him. He simply wasn't going t
o let her hide in her safety zone any longer.

  And what if she tells you she can't handle anything more? That stopped him, but only for a second. He opened the door and sprinted up the stairs. Then so be it, he thought. But she was going to have to give him some pretty damn good reasons why.

  He was praying her mother was gone, because he'd worked himself up for this big confrontation and he really didn't want to play host at the moment. One way or the other, they were going to have this out. Now. Today.

  Just as he reached for the knob, the door swung open and Ruby stepped out. "Oh, my!" she said, but didn't really seem all that put off at finding him standing there all hot and sweaty.

  "Sorry to startle you, ma'am."

  Ruby beamed up at him. "My, that's nice. I've always loved military manners."

  Trevor found himself grinning, despite the pile of emotions that were squirming inside him. "Yes, ma'am."

  "I was just on my way out." She tugged on the leash he now noticed she had in her hand. "Come on, big boy."

  "Are you taking him for a walk?" Trevor asked in obvious surprise as George bustled out the door behind her. "Because I've been working with him, but he still gets excited when he sees people or other animals. He's very strong and—"

  Ruby patted Trevor on the cheek as he reached down to pet George's huge head. He didn't think he'd ever been patted on the cheek before.

  "Not to worry," Ruby said, and Trevor realized where Christy got her confidence from. "I can handle him."

  Trevor straightened and gave her a sharp salute. "Why, I believe you can, ma'am."

  Ruby tossed him a saucy salute of her own and headed down the hallway toward the stairs, George trotting happily beside her.

  It didn't occur to Trevor until he stepped into the condo that Ruby had her purse and keys with her when she left. Just what was going on? But that question and any others he might have had vanished the moment he stepped past the small foyer into the living room.

  The curtains had been drawn against the morning sun. Instead, the room was filled with the soft, flickering light of dozens of candles. Trevor wasn't aware Christy liked candles, much less had so many of them tucked away. It gave him pause, the realization that there was still a lot he didn't know about her. But the pause was a short one. Because he knew, without doubt, that he wanted to continue being surprised by her for a lifetime.