by Lynda Aicher
Papers slid from the packet with a pile of tags tumbling off the top. She tilted her head and read one of them. Glaciers Behind The Scenes pass. A lot of them. Her mouth dropped open for the second time that day. She stared at V, unable to speak. Was it really…
V smiled, nodding. “Yes. It’s twenty-five tickets and before-game passes for the home game on December fourth. It’s a Saturday afternoon, so hopefully more kids can come. The Glaciers have arranged for a bus to take everyone to and from here, too.”
The chair banged against the wall when Liv launched herself out of it to maul her sister with a hug. “Oh my God. This is so incredible. Thank you. Wait.” She jerked back. “Who do I thank? Is this from you and Holden?”
“It’s a donation from the Glaciers. I was asked to deliver it for them. Heidi should be contacting you with the details.”
She’d worked with the Glaciers’s publicity manager when they’d arranged the carnival last summer. “I’ll send her a thank you right away.” She dropped back into her seat and thought of how excited the kids would be. She’d need to get permission slips out and see if Shelly and Joan could help chaperone. Oh, she had to send Noah a note too about the donations and then—
“Liv.”
V’s sharp bark ripped Liv out of the mental scripting of her To Do list. “What?”
“I asked if you’re going to Mom’s for Thanksgiving.”
Liv frowned. “Are you?”
Her sister took a sudden interest in her salad, picking out the peas with her fork just like she’d done as a kid. “Holden has the day off and wanted to go to his parents.”
Liv sat forward, grinning. “That’s so great. Are you going?”
“I think so. If you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind?”
“That’d leave you alone with the family.”
Liv waved off her sister’s objection. “I think you’re just looking for an out. Why? Is Holden’s family a version of the Addams Family or something?”
V arched a brow and chuckled. “No. But it might be easier if they were.” She pushed her food around for a moment. “I’m not sure if I’m the woman they’d envisioned for their son.”
Liv choked down her mouthful of food and eyeballed her sister to see if she was joking. “What does that mean? You’re a smart, successful business woman. What’s not to like? Turn the ice down a notch, and you’re fine.”
V shook her head, her smile wistful. “You’re right. I’m just being foolish.”
“No. I think you’re concerned because it’s important to you that they like you.” V didn’t answer, but she did a great job of avoiding Liv’s eyes. Her heart went out to her sister. “You love Holden. That’s all his family needs to see. Don’t let our messed-up family keep you from experiencing his.” She leaned in to grab her sister’s hand across the desk. “I take it he wants you to meet them.”
V squeezed her hand and let go. “We met once at a Detroit game, so that part is done.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“More important things were going on.” She shot Liv a meaningful look. “Anyway, this is a whole day of extended family.” She shuddered.
Liv’s low laugh was one of understanding. “You’ll have Holden there. He’ll pound on anyone who gives you problems.”
“Oh, I can handle that.” V’s hard tone had Liv chuckling again. Yeah, that wouldn’t be the problem. V gave up on the pretense of eating her salad and slumped back in her chair with a heavy sigh. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not even the slightest. Go meet your future in-laws.”
“What?” Her eyes went wide.
“Ha. Gotcha.” Liv flashed a smile and V scowled. “Seriously though, this doesn’t seem like a short-term thing for you guys.”
“Maybe not. But marriage?” V shuddered again. “I never saw that for myself. You, yes. You were made for marriage and commitment.”
Liv’s stomach did a dance of trepidation. “Why do you say that?”
V studied her for a moment. A gentle smile softened her expression in a way that reminded Liv of Noah. His face did the same thing when he looked at her. The thought sent a pang of sorrow through her that soured her appetite. He was always right there in her head no matter how much she tried to not think of him.
“It’s just who we are,” V said as she packed up her half-eaten lunch. “I have to run some errands. I’ll be back to pick up Holden later.”
“I thought you were here to help me.”
“I just did.” She wiped her hands before tossing the used napkin into the trash.
Liv frowned. “How?”
“By telling you not to give up on Noah.”
She jerked back, stunned. “What? Where’d that come from? I’m not giving up on him.”
“Good.” V swung her purse over her shoulder. “You two fit. I approve. Just give him time.”
Liv couldn’t decipher the shock from the anger or relief. She hadn’t asked for her sister’s approval, yet it meant a lot. Dang it. It didn’t help that she agreed with everything V said. She’d walked away to give him the time he needed and she wasn’t giving up on him. How could she when he still held her heart?
V paused at the door. “Be ready when I come back. We’ll go out for dinner. It might be the last time I see you for a few weeks.”
Liv didn’t get a chance to argue. V’s heels were clicking down the hallway at a rapid pace, and Liv couldn’t get herself to move. What just happened? They’d been having a rare discussion about Vanessa, and suddenly it’d swung to her.
She closed her eyes, a smile creeping over her lips. The move was her sister’s way of leaving things focused on Liv and not herself. Tactical and so V that Liv could only shake her head and accept it.
Did everyone think she’d given up on Noah? That she’d leave him when he’d finally started to deal with his past? Maybe distance was the wrong approach. It was if he also thought she’d completely left him.
She found her phone under a pile of napkins and quickly typed out a text over her cracked screen, deleted, tried another and deleted it, too. Her hands were shaking now, nerves rushing in to turn her into a bumbling teenager with her first crush. God. She thumped her forehead into her palm and laughed at her own stupidity.
Her slow exhale helped some. Her final attempt at a text was simple and close to the banter they’d established during their weeks together.
Was thinking of you. How’s your day? Her thumb hovered over Send before she tapped the screen. Hopefully it was a start. A way to build something new and stronger if he wanted it. If not, she’d have to accept his friendship, even if it killed her to see him and know what could’ve been.
Determined not to hover around waiting for a response, she packed up the rest of her lunch and stored it in the refrigerator. She had boxes to sort, thank yous to write, kids to entertain and an evening of cooking up meals for everyone. That was more than enough to keep her busy, both body and mind.
If only it would work.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Noah stepped through the doorway marked Dr. Cass Coleman and froze. He did a double take, backed up to check the name plaque to ensure he was in the right place. The deep chuckle from the room had him proceeding with caution.
The doctor was standing behind a large wood desk, hand extended in greeting. “Noah. Good to see you.”
His handshake was performed more out of habit than conscious thought. He was still adjusting to the fact that the therapist Deklan had recommended was better known as Master C at The Den. With a liberal amount of gray hair covering his darker strands and a thin face that matched his lanky build, the man appeared scholarly behind his black-rimmed glasses, neat tie and tweed jacket.
“Dr. Coleman,” Noah said, keeping it formal.
“Please, call me Cass if that works for you.” The doctor sat down in the leather executive chair and motioned for Noah to have a seat. The visitor chair was cushioned, the wooden arms providi
ng a place for him to rest his elbows. “How are you doing?”
Noah analyzed the question to decipher if there was an innuendo in it. “Fine.”
“It’s been a rough month,” Cass said. “A lot of upheaval and rotten stuff to deal with.” A slow nod was all Noah could give in response. “I hear Jake is home. That’s good. And Seth and Deklan’s partners are doing better.”
Noah narrowed his eyes.
“I see we need to discuss if this arrangement will work for you.”
“How so?”
“You knowing me outside of this room. As a Dom.” The doctor leaned in, forearms crossed on the desk. “I want you to be comfortable discussing whatever it is you need to. If our association prevents that, I can refer you to another therapist.”
He studied the man for several moments. Apprehension prickled over his nape, but was it because of the man or the topic he was here to discuss? He could use this as an excuse to bail right now, and no one would call him on it. No one but himself.
“I think we’re good,” he finally answered. “It’s all confidential, I assume.”
“One hundred percent.” Cass took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before slipping them back on. “Damn glasses are new. Sorry. Let’s sit over there and talk if you’re comfortable with that.” He motioned toward a sitting area with a couch and two matching chairs. They all looked cushy and welcoming, which repelled Noah for some reason.
“Here’s good,” he said. The nice desk in between them gave him space. It also made it more formal. A business discussion was something he could do.
“All right.” Cass pulled out a notepad and scribbled something down. That right there would drive Noah nuts, wondering what the man was noting.
“Could you not do that?”
The doctor looked up, and Noah nodded toward the pad of paper. Cass set his pen down and leaned back in the chair. “Will you allow me to record our session then, so I can take notes later?”
“I’d prefer not. Recordings can be copied.”
“Let’s get to what brings you here.” Cass dropped the topic so smoothly, that Noah questioned the man’s motives. What in the hell was he doing here?
The silence stretched between them until he fisted his hands to resist fidgeting. He’d stared down opponents in longer battles of wills and won. However, this wasn’t a battle he’d come to win. It wasn’t even supposed to be scrimmage.
“I thought you would’ve heard the rumors about my past,” Noah finally said, the words clipped like his tone.
Cass rested his arms on the desk. “I don’t believe in listening to rumors. They’re usually full of lies and assumptions. Why don’t you tell me what you think I’d have heard?”
A half smile cracked Noah’s lips and he gave the man a nod of respect. If he wanted Liv, he needed to trust someone besides her with his fucked-up past. He thought of the text he’d received from her on the way here. The simplicity and sense of normalcy in it had him wanting more of that. More of her. Seeing her all week and not touching, not knowing how her day went, who she’d helped that day, what her plans were, when she was coming home—it killed him a little each time.
He hung his head. The checkered pattern on the industrial carpeting held his attention as he randomly grouped and counted the squares. The action cleared his mind and allowed him to lock his emotions behind the vaulted door in his chest. He wouldn’t get through this if he broke down.
When he lifted his head, Cass was quietly waiting, face blank until he arched a brow. The silent question almost pulled a snort from him. It was so Dom-like.
Noah crossed his arms over his chest, fortified his heart and began his tale. The monotone recap of his sordid past was told without interruption. There were no gasps or grunts or even alterations in facial expressions. The doctor simply listened to everything Noah had to say. From his parents’ death in his early twenties, which led to discovering BDSM, to Beth, their relationship and finally her death. He was sweating by the time he was done, moisture laminating his shirt to his back and underarms.
His gaze found the carpet again when he ran out of words. The patterns blurred this time until he blinked them back into focus. Inside, he was gutted. His heart didn’t race and his stomach wasn’t doing flips. Instead it was almost like he was back to a purged, clean shell.
“Okay.” The chair whined, and Noah sensed the man moving. “Now tell me what that has to do with why you’re here today.”
He jerked his head up, brows lowered. “Because of all of that,” he spat out. Wasn’t that obvious?
Cass gave a shake of his head. “No. That was your past. All of which happened years ago.” He held Noah’s gaze, his brown eyes dark and penetrating behind his glasses. “Something happened to drive you to seek me out.”
That clean void within him suddenly filled with stress and apprehension that twisted from his chest to his gut. He had to swallow before he could speak, and when he did his voice was rough. “Liv happened.”
“Liv?”
His smile was automatic. “Yeah, Liv.” He clasped his hands, his shoulders relaxing from the tense pose he’d unknowingly held. “Vivian Delcour plowed into my life and made me want again.”
“Good.” Cass smiled, crinkles lining his lips in a way that showed he did it a lot. He might be a Dom, but the stoic thing wasn’t his natural personality. “That’s progress.”
“Maybe. If I can get over Beth and move on.”
“By over, you mean what?”
“Over the guilt.”
Cass lifted his chin in a silent move of understanding. “That gives us something to work with.”
The rest of the session was spent probing into Noah’s guilt and the reasoning behind it. Never once was there an accusation or even a sense of it from the therapist, and having him understand the lifestyle took away Noah’s instant defensiveness of his personal choices.
“For our next meeting,” Cass said as he stood, “I want you to think about how you can move past this guilt you have over Beth’s death.”
“I thought you were supposed to tell me how to do that.”
Cass smiled and moved around his desk. “Sorry. I’m helping you with the heavy lifting. It’s up to you to find the how.”
Noah scowled, resentment crashing in before he stifled it. What had he expected? An easy answer? The quick fix that would take away what years couldn’t? Right. Real life didn’t work that way.
He sighed and followed the man to the door, bone weary and ready to crawl into bed and never get out. That didn’t work either. Another thing he knew from experience.
Cass gripped his shoulder. “We’ll get you through this. Is Liv into the lifestyle?”
Noah tensed. “No.”
“Not judging,” Cass said. “Just asking. Gives me a framework.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Only if it is for you.”
They eyed each other until Noah looked away. “It’s not. I don’t think I can go back to that even if I wanted to.”
“Most can’t turn it off that easily.”
Noah nailed him with a hard glare. “Most don’t have their submissive hang themselves in their playroom either.”
“Yes. She did hang herself,” Cass agreed. “You didn’t do that.”
Noah opened his mouth to argue only to snap it closed. He absorbed the point the man made and for the first time tried to let it sink in. He couldn’t remember how many people had said a variation of that same thing, every one ignored by him.
He’d placed the blame solely on his shoulders since he’d walked into their playroom and found her. It was exactly what he’d told Seth not to do over Harcourt. Maybe it was time to listen to what others had been trying to get him to hear for years.
“Tuesday at five then?”
Cass followed the subject change with ease. “I’ll see you then.”
Noah palmed his phone as he left, holding it but not looking at it. A gust of wind rushed around him in
a swoosh of sound and force when he stepped outside. He glanced up at the mostly bare branches. The last of the stubborn leaves would be gone after today. The northern flow of air included a briskness that carried the scent of decayed leaves and season’s end.
He inhaled and stopped. The wind battered him, his hair and suit coat ruffling as the weather tried to take him away like it did the leaves. But he was stronger than it. A leaf swirled through the air to plaster against his chest in a splash of yellow and gold. He flicked it away and watched it twist and dance into the sky.
Would he ever be free like that again?
His phone buzzed and he flipped it over to read the text. Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?
Liv. He ran the tips of his fingers over the screen until the message faded to black. Plans? His only plan for so long had been to get through each day in one piece. Plans implied a future, and he’d stopped thinking of that when Beth died.
But now…
No, he typed back. Might go to the hospital.
Jake had mentioned something about bringing dinner to the crew there. More mobile now that his pain had subsided, he was hobbling around on crutches, determined to get rid of them as fast as possible even though the doctors had warned him it was a solid three to six months down the road before that would happen.
Noah slammed his car door closed and started the engine, a smile playing across his lips. In an odd way, he was almost content right then. His friends were all recovering, The Den was thriving and the media had scattered to tear apart other people’s lives. Somehow, they had survived.
For the first time in years, he was ready to live.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Liv pulled the SUV into Noah’s short drive, the scent of the boxed-up turkey dinner filling the cab with memories of family and belonging. She’d purposely saved his delivery for last. She gripped the steering wheel too hard, nerves turning her stomach into a squirming rock. This was the first time she’d been back to his house since she’d packed up her things two weeks ago.
Her gaze caught on a man dressed in a worn sweatshirt and dirty jeans as he swung a hoe into the ground near the fence. He pulled it back, moving the dirt before he squatted to dig a bulb out of the bag at his feet and drop it into the hole.