“All I’m asking is for you to come with me tomorrow.” He caught her hand again, forcing it to her side.
“You are not asking. If you don’t leave, I’m going to call the police.”
“Why would you do that?” The dimple in his cheek was a crater again, rough and hideous. His hands held hers like twin vises. His pretty face, now stretched into the mask of a stranger, came nearer.
The doorbell rang at that moment, and Mickelle called out, “Come in, the door’s open!”
He kissed her, but she turned her face away again, and his lips fell on her cheek. She was so furious at him she would have slapped him if her hands had been free. As Brenda entered, he released her and stepped decorously away.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“Well, sort of.” Colton smirked indulgently.
Brenda grinned at Mickelle. “I can wait outside,”
“No!” Mickelle moved toward her. “Colton was just leaving.”
Brenda didn’t seem to notice her vehemence. “Oh, there are those beautiful roses,” she gushed, coming into the kitchen to smell them.
“Yep,” Colton said. “They’re right here. Mickelle was just showing me how grateful she was for them.”
Mickelle scowled. “So strange that it didn’t come with a card. My friend, Damon, gives me flowers and his always comes with a card. They must have shorted you.”
“Sometimes they get lost,” Colton said with a shrug.
Mickelle could read in his eyes as clearly as if he had spoken that he hadn’t sent the flowers.
“I guess I’ll be on my way.” Colton backed toward the door. “I’ll call you later.”
“There’s no need,” Mickelle retorted. “We’ve said all we need to.”
To her surprise, Colton appeared contrite. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, Mickelle. It’s hard for us guys when we’re in love with a beautiful woman. Hormones you know. We’re built differently. It makes us too human sometimes. But I really care about you.”
His seriousness stunned her. What was he talking about? After this little scene did he really expect her to believe him?
“I’ll drop by soon,” Colton promised. Before Mickelle could reiterate her threat to call the police, he gave another crater smile to Brenda and was gone.
“Hormones?” Brenda shook her dark head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but when a man starts using his hormones to make excuses for his actions, something’s wrong. Reminds me of my ex-husband: ‘Oh, I just couldn’t help fooling around with my secretary, it’s the way I’m built.’ Humph! As if the Lord didn’t give him a brain in his head. Even after counseling, he couldn’t see that the natural man had to be overcome. That the Lord could make him strong and that I could make him happy, if he put enough effort into the relationship.” She sighed, and for the first time since Mickelle had known her she looked depressed.
Mickelle put her arm around her friend. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” sniffed Brenda. “I’ve come so far without him, spiritually and emotionally, and the children are much better without his constant lying. But I still wish he’d been the kind of man I thought he was back then. I wish we could have worked it out, that we could have had an eternal family. I don’t love him anymore. I don’t long to be with him. In fact, I sort of hate him. But it’s still hard. I wish he would take more notice of the girls. I wish they had a man in their life that they could respect.”
“What about that banker you met at the dance?”
Brenda smiled, though tears glittered in her green eyes. “He’s nice. Very cautious, but nice. It’s too early to tell. He likes kids, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“I know what you mean,” Mickelle said with a grimace. “Colton seemed so nice up front. He talked a good talk, and he helped me get my money. But one minute he’s discussing the gospel and the next he’s acting like a jerk.” Mickelle stopped, not wanting to confess how Colton’s treatment had dredged up all her bad memories with Riley.
Brenda reached up and squeezed Mickelle’s hand that was still draped over her shoulder. “The gospel is true, Mickelle. It’s the one thing I’ve learned through this whole mess—I know it with all of my heart. It’s just unfortunate that some men choose to use an outward piety to hide what is really inside their hearts. That’s not the Lord’s plan, we know that. Women just have to remember that they are entitled to their own revelation and that we don’t have to marry a man just because he said he received a confirmation.”
Mickelle knew that had happened to Brenda. Her husband had told her he knew they were supposed to marry, and that the revelation would come first to the man. She’d trusted him before trusting in her own communication with the Lord.
“I was so naive when I married,” Brenda remembered with a sigh. “So young. I didn’t understand that I was entitled to my own answer.”
“Or that you didn’t even have to ask the Lord if you didn’t like him,” Mickelle said dryly. “After all, the Lord gives us brains and intuition. He expects us to use them.” Of course, sometimes even those things didn’t stop a woman from being blinded—like she had been with Colton. He had shown his true colors now, and she refused to be fooled again.
Brenda shrugged. “Oh, I liked my husband well enough. I just wasn’t sure that we should get married. I should have seen that he wasn’t truly committed to me or to the Lord.” She sighed again and then said, “Shall we go now? Or not.”
Mickelle didn’t feel like going anywhere. Not now. What she wanted was to talk to Damon. “You go ahead,” she told Brenda as they walked to the door. “We’ve missed the lesson anyway, and after Colton . . . well I’m not feeling up to talking with the other ladies tonight. You can all manage tying that quilt without me.”
“Are you sure?” Brenda smiled skeptically. “You always love doing that. You’re faster than anyone.”
“It’ll give someone else a chance.”
When Brenda looked as though she would offer to stay, Mickelle added, “I think I really need to talk with Damon.”
“So . . . that’s how it is. You should have told me.”
“I didn’t know.” Mickelle felt herself blush. “I mean . . . I knew, but I was fighting it.”
Brenda hugged her. “Good luck. You deserve a dream come true.”
A dream come true.
Was that what Damon was? Maybe she would go right in and call him on his cell phone. His late meeting should be over by now.
As Brenda was pulling away a white van drove into her vacated spot, behind the ancient gold station wagon Mickelle had nicknamed the Snail. A man emerged from the van and sauntered across the grass, a paper in his hands. “Hello, I have a service order here. To look at a damaged cabinet.”
“What?” Mickelle stared at him suspiciously. His sandy blond hair was a bit longer than she liked, but his hazel eyes were earnest. “I didn’t call anyone to fix anything.”
“Uh . . .” He consulted his paper. “I talked to a Damon Wolfe. Does that ring a bell?”
“Yeah, it’s starting to chime.”
He grinned. “Good one. Well, this Mr. Wolfe said he’d meet me here. I was to wait if he wasn’t here yet.”
“You won’t have to wait long.” Over his shoulder, Mickelle saw Damon drive up in his dark green Lexus. She felt a pang at not seeing him in the familiar dark blue Mercedes, but that was because she had grown attached to it when he’d lent it to her for a week when Tanner was fixing the damage to the Snail—her only car at the time.
Damon was out of the Lexus in a flash and jogging across the lawn toward them. “Kelle,” he said in greeting. She could tell he was a little unsettled by the way he rubbed the shadow growing on his chin.
Her heart was doing funny things in her chest at the sight of his beloved angular face, and she wanted nothing more than to throw herself in his arms. But “Hello, Damon” was all she allowed herself.
“I thought you’d be gone by now.”
&nb
sp; “Apparently.”
“Is it okay? I just wanted to do something for you . . . I know how much that curio cabinet means to you, and I thought tonight would be the perfect time to fix it since you were going to be gone. Even if you’re mad at me for today. Your sister lent me her spare key. Well?” He gazed at her anxiously, while next to him the repairman laboriously studied his paper.
“Come on in,” Mickelle said softly.
The repairman started up the cement stairs, but Damon held back. “You too,” she invited. “We’ve got some Chinese food to finish.”
He grinned, and she caught a glimpse of a gold tooth. She almost laughed, recalling how he’d confessed that the tooth was a whim he succumbed to when the need for a cap had coincided with the making of his first million. As he matured, he’d meant to have it replaced with something less eye-catching but never seemed to have the time—or the desire—to go to the dentist. “I’m a little bit of a wimp about going to the dentist,” he’d admitted.
“At least it’s not a tattoo,” Mickelle had replied. “And you can only see it when we’re close.”
Close! Right where she wanted to be.
Without warning, her entire being filled with light. She’d missed that tooth, darn it all!
He took her hand as he came in. Mickelle started to close the front door but paused as a car down the street caught her attention. White and low-slung, it reminded her of Colton’s. But no, that was ridiculous. There was no reason for him to be hanging around. If he did keep his promise to call, she was not going to talk to him.
After surveying the damage, the repair man said, “I could fix it here like we agreed, but I could do a better job back at my shop, if you don’t mind. I can return it by the end of the week.”
“Well, it’s no longer a surprise.” Damon smiled at her, asking for a decision. “Kelle, what do you think?”
Mickelle removed her precious roses from the cabinet, and Damon helped move the curio cabinet out to the white van. All too soon they were alone.
“Well . . .” He let the word hang in the air between them.
Mickelle’s heart was once more knocking about oddly. She’d forgotten how broad his chest appeared at this close range, how neatly his short moustache combed just over the top of his upper lip. “We need to talk. Can you stay?”
“Of course.” His amber eyes held hers in an almost physical embrace. Never had the innocent words “of course” sounded so alluring, so completely breathtaking—electrifying.
This time he didn’t take her hand as he followed her up the stairs. She knew why. It was too important. What they said now might mean more than anything they had ever said to each other. She couldn’t explain it even to herself, but not touching at this moment was right, just as holding her hand had been right moments earlier.
Mickelle checked for the white sports car before going into the house, but it was gone. For some reason, that made her feel a lot better.
Damon sat at the counter as Mickelle warmed up the sweet and sour chicken, vegetable spring rolls, and fried rice. The smell made her mouth water; she’d only picked at her food when she’d eaten with the children earlier. She took out some plates before sitting and offering a blessing on the food. As she had done with Colton earlier, she took the stool on the opposite side of the counter from Damon.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, until Damon threw down his chopsticks. “Darn it all, I’m too hungry to use these.”
She laughed and tossed him a fork from the drawer. He took a few more bites, watching her warily. Abruptly, he let the fork drop to the counter. His amber eyes gazed intently into hers, and the deep laughter lines in his face stood out more prominently on the sides of his slightly hooked nose. He was so ruggedly handsome—especially compared to Colton—and his face was honest, his expressions open and unfeigned.
“I can’t eat with . . . What happened to us, Kelle?” His brow furrowed, making his thick blond eyebrows run together. “I thought you loved me. I was sure of it. But it seems like the day I fell into that pool, I lost something more precious than my life: you.”
It was true. Had he not nearly died, she wouldn’t have felt such a need to protect herself.
Is that what I’m doing?
Even if she was, maybe it was necessary. Who else would do it? She’d ceased believing in white knights when Riley killed himself.
“You’ve done so much for me,” Mickelle began. “Giving me a job, helping me find the car. And for the boys. Jeremy hasn’t wet the bed for weeks, he loves playing ball with you, and your kids are wonderful. I’m so grateful—”
“You’re worried that you don’t really love me, aren’t you?” he accused in a raw voice. The muscles in his jaw rippled beneath the skin. He seized her hands and leaned across the counter until they were so close that she could smell his breath, spicy from the Chinese food. “You remember that kiss we shared this morning?” he asked huskily. “Was that gratitude? Is what you feel in your heart right now gratitude?”
The nearness of him filled all her senses, and more than anything at that moment she wanted to feel his lips against hers. As though reading her thoughts, he leaned over farther and his lips came down on hers, but instead of the urgent, demanding kiss of that morning, his touch was gentle and searching, full of a tenderness she could not name. She wanted it to continue forever. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest, but all the other signs of a panic attack were missing. Maybe confronting the issue head-on was what she should have done from the start. Certainly kissing him didn’t seem to be part of the problem!
He drew away reluctantly. “Is that gratitude?” he asked softly. “I don’t think so. Gratitude is something you feel for your child when he cleans his room, or your neighbor for not allowing his dog to use your lawn as an outhouse. But not what’s between us.” He kissed her again, briefly. “Or is it? You tell me.”
“It’s not gratitude,” she said, glad that he had left his hands cupped gently around hers. She couldn’t bear it if he retreated now. “I mean, I have wondered occasionally, but not anymore. It’s . . . I’m afraid.”
“Afraid,” he repeated, sounding thoroughly dejected. “Afraid of trusting me? Afraid of losing your freedom like you did with Riley?”
Her grip tightened on the chopsticks that she had not released during their kisses, or even though his hands still held hers. “Losing my freedom? No! That’s not it at all! I mean, it was when we first met, but you’re not like that—I’ve learned you’re not like that. It’s you I don’t want to lose! I’m afraid of losing you!”
He stared at her, his jaw opening slightly as understanding dawned. “Kelle, I—”
She wasn’t finished. “I can’t go through that again,” she said, shaking her head, her voice agonized. Her heart thumped painfully and her sight and hearing grew dim, but she forced herself to continue. “I just can’t. Riley’s death about killed me, and I didn’t love him half as much as I love you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, but amazingly the effects of her panic attack didn’t deepen.
Damon gave a swift intake of breath. “You love me more than Riley?”
She nodded, and sniffed loudly. “I tried so hard not to.”
His lips twitched as though making a great effort not to smile. Then he freed the chopsticks from her death-grip and came around the counter, encircling her with his strong arms. For a long moment he searched her face with a sober expression.
“I’m afraid of losing you, too,” he said gravely. “But you know what? I’m even more afraid of wasting any time we may have left together. I can’t promise you that I’m not going to be in an accident that might take me away, but I can promise you I will never leave you through my own will. Never.”
“When I saw you lying there . . .” She shuddered and closed her eyes, and was glad when he pulled her even closer.
“I’ll never go near a pool again, if that’s what you want. I love you, Kelle, more than I have ever loved anyone. My kids love you, too.”
She opened her eyes again. “They’re great kids.”
“I’m glad you think so because, uh, it’s only fair to tell you that my kids, well, they are yours.” His expression was suddenly half apologetic, like a little boy who was uncertain if his homemade gift would be well-received.
“What?”
He grinned sheepishly, arms still clasped around her. “I had my will changed last week—when I bought the ring. If I’d died in that pool, I’m afraid, the kids would have gone to you, along with everything I own—lock, stock, and barrel. I told you that day in the hospital that all I had was yours—and I meant it.”
The enormity of what he was saying struck her. He trusted her enough to give her not only all his millions in money and assets, but also his children, whom she knew he loved more than life. “Damon, I . . .” She didn’t know what to say.
“Please marry me, Kelle. Please.” His gaze was pleading, but there was none of the sadness she had detected before, none of the uncertainty that had made him so miserable. Her heart leapt a little within her breast.
“Okay,” she whispered, “but I’m still afraid.” Again her heart knocked painfully against her rib cage and her breathing quickened. She leaned into him, trying to breathe through the rising panic.
“I know,” he said, holding her to him firmly. “But I think that if we get down on our knees and pray with all our hearts, the Lord will bless us with peace. He knows the future and can comfort us. It’s the only answer I know.”
She had been going about this fear issue all wrong. Why hadn’t she remembered that such paralyzing fear did not come from the Lord, but from the other side? She had to go forward with faith.
The Lord is my strength and my salvation, she recited, whom then shall I fear . . .
The panic faded slowly, like a tide receding from the shore. For now she would hold on to Damon and let him hold on to her.
She wouldn’t think of panic, of losing Damon, of the cruelty in Colton’s eyes, or his promise to return. At least not today.
Chapter Fourteen
She loves me more than she did Riley!
Bridge to Forever Page 17