On the day she was scheduled to return home, Brendan found himself unable to concentrate. Thoughts entered his mind and flitted away moments later. All he could focus on was the clock. She was landing at four. It would take her another two to three hours to get to Brooklyn. She would for sure be home by eight, more likely by seven.
At six he was at Shawn’s condo, sitting with him in the den, listening to some of Sam Gaston’s stuff. They were thinking of releasing the CD anyway, even without Sam around to help promote it. It would be risky, but they were banking on the music selling itself. A few people they’d had listen to it believed it was that good, and worth the risk.
Brendan glanced at the time. Six-seventeen now. Almost certainly she was home. She’d driven her car to the airport, he knew, because he hadn’t seen it parked on the street when he’d gone by earlier in the week.
“What d’you think man?” Shawn asked.
Brendan looked at him blankly, having missed entirely whatever it was Shawn had asked him.
Shawn shook his head. “What’s going on?” he asked finally.
“Nothing. Stuff with Tracy.”
Shawn nodded. “She’s a handful, isn’t she?”
Brendan laughed. “You could say that.”
“Thinking about quittin’ that?” Shawn asked.
Brendan shrugged.
“You know how many times I thought about leaving Riley?” Shawn asked.
Brendan shook his head. “You never thought about leaving Riley.”
“You kidding me?” Shawn said. “In the second year, I thought about it constantly.”
“The second year?” Brendan asked, skeptically. “By then she owned your ass. You ain’t forget I was there, right? I saw how you felt about her.”
“Exactly,” Shawn said. “It was like a . . . fight or flight response. There was no fighting how I felt about her, so flight was all that was left. I mean, I knew that this woman had me, man. Like I mean, for life had me. That’s some scary shit. I had escape fantasies.”
“I asked you about that just this year and you said permanent didn’t scare you at all.”
“Not now it doesn’t. And even back then when I wanted to run, the funny thing was, I was more afraid she would let me go.” Shawn shrugged. “Now I’m not sure whether that has shit-all to do with what you and Tracy are going through but I just thought I’d share.”
Brendan laughed. “Thanks for the thought.”
Tracy fell backwards onto her bed and flapped her arms and legs like someone making a snow angel. The beds in Paris had left much to be desired. In her hotel room at least, the mattress had been lumpy and uncomfortable and a quick relocation request hadn’t made much of a difference. But in all other respects, the trip had been amazing. Even the conference was just short of boring.
In the afternoons, she’d walked along the Seine and shopped in boutiques that in the States were just names on labels affixed to pricey clothing. She even splurged on a seven hundred dollar purse because the sales clerk had convinced her that it was practically an investment. Shamefully, she hadn’t been to a single museum though, and had confined her tourist time to shopping. Maybe next time she would check out the culture. She already knew there would be a next time because lumpy mattress notwithstanding, Paris had been beautiful and amazing.
Somehow the world seemed so much larger after a trip like that, and Tracy was beginning to wonder whether she might not think about doing a full European tour in the spring.
Still by the time she landed at JFK her thoughts were dominated by Brendan. She wanted to tell him everything, describe every incredible meal, each tiny gem of a boutique she’d “discovered” and every little trinket she bought. But in all honesty, she wasn’t surprised to find the townhouse quiet and undisturbed when she got there. For the past five nights, she’d turned it over and over in her mind and decided that it was better to prepare herself for the worst. She wasn’t prepared of course. It still hurt.
Tracy turned over and snuggled against her pillow, holding it close to her chest. Back to hugging pillows for awhile. At the foot of the bed, there was one extra suitcase filled with the spoils of her Paris adventures, gifts for Riley, Russell, Cullen, Brendan and even something for Shawn. Something for each member of her little family of choice. She sat up and contemplated unpacking, but decided to shower first, since she might want to try on some of her new stuff.
Alone in the shower, her thoughts shifted to Brendan again and she permitted herself a few minutes of self-pity before washing up. She stayed in only as long as it took her to get passably clean, because she was still a little tired. The warm water was soothing and made her even sleepier, so that when she was done, all she had energy to do was towel dry, shut off the lights, curl up on her side and go to sleep.
When she opened her eyes again it was morning and Tracy thought for a moment that she was dreaming. An arm was draped across her abdomen, and she was snugly wedged against a warm body, the pillow she’d gone to sleep with tossed aside and her butt pressed against a very familiar groin. Still not sure she should believe, Tracy turned so that she was facing him. He was there alright; her man. She studied his face as he slept, his lashes casting feathery shadows on his cheeks, the smooth line of hair on his jaw, the dimple in his left cheek visible even now. And the mouth that always looked as though it had, or was just about to smile. Unable to help herself, she reached out and touched the side of his face. Brendan opened his eyes.
Tracy smiled at him and he smiled back, more with his eyes than his lips this time.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he returned, his voice hoarse. Brendan swallowed and cleared his throat. “You told me only to come if I was sure I was ready for you. Well, I’m here,” he said. “And I’m ready.”
Later, when they were both fully awake, they would talk and the conversation would be difficult; or it would be easy. Maybe he’d found a way to put her past behind them and leave it there. Maybe he was still working on it. Maybe he’d decided that whatever she’d done before wasn’t nearly as important as all the things they wanted to, and would do in the future. She hoped so, but Tracy had no way of knowing. Just as she had no way of knowing what the path ahead for their relationship would be like. But he was here, and he said he was ready. And for now, that was enough. She moved closer, shut her eyes when he put his arms around her, and held on tight.
THE END
Look out for these other titles by Nia Forrester:
‘Commitment’
AVAILABLE NOW on Amazon.com
‘The Seduction of Dylan Acosta’
COMING FALL 2012
Unsuitable Men Page 25