Come Home to Me (A Brookside Romance Book 5)

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Come Home to Me (A Brookside Romance Book 5) Page 17

by Abby Brooks


  Nora frowns. “Not one word. Although Trish Juniper says Sarah gave Mr. Kent an earful. Told him Bree Marshall was a liar. Sarah stood up for you.” Nora cocks her head to the side. “Wait. Shouldn’t you know all this already?”

  If everything was right with the world, I would definitely know all this already. Even better, none of this would have happened. But, I’m living in a crazy, upside-down world, where I had everything I ever wanted and managed to smash it to bits in my fist and then watch it all slip like sand through my fingers.

  “I should.” I sigh. “But I messed up. Thought I could come here today and try to fix it, but…” I shrug as a thought distracts me. I might not be able to do anything to fix what’s broken between Sarah and me, but there is a step I can take to stop my tailspin and put my life back on track.

  I thank Nora and head down the hallway to the offices while she calls after me. “I don’t think you’re welcome back there,” she says.

  I spin and offer her a wide smile. “I don’t care and I won’t be long.”

  The vibe is far less hostile than I expected. Instead of glaring and staring, people smile and nod, then glance at Bree and shake their heads. She won’t make eye contact, which is fine with me. I push open the door to Jason’s office.

  He glances up, recognizes me, and gives me a questioning look. “I did not expect to see you here today.”

  “I came to find Sarah.”

  “She left a couple hours ago. Came in. Told off Brian. Then quit. Rumor has it that Bree’s about to lose her job, too.”

  “Look, I need to go. I have to find Sarah. I just wanted to stop in and tell you that yes, I’d love to start a firm with you.” I open my hands. “I am not the guy you saw in my apartment.”

  “Good.” Jason studies me, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Now get out of here and find your girl so she can kick you in the balls. She should be waiting for you at your place.”

  Sarah

  So Frank didn’t cheat on me.

  The knowledge is validating. An Aha! I told you so! moment of epic proportions.

  I knew it. Even when his words hurt the softest part of my soul, I knew he didn’t sleep with Bree. He was trying to pull some fucked up version of loving something enough to set it free.

  Well, that’s the thing about me.

  I’ve always been free.

  I’ve never let anyone make me feel like I had to do something I didn’t want to do.

  I fly through the streets of Denver, dialing and redialing Frank’s number. I leave messages the first couple times he doesn’t answer, and then I realize his phone must be off and give up. He can not answer all he wants. I’ll drive right over to his apartment. Stride up the walk. I’ll pound on his door until he lets me in. I’m not leaving until he talks to me.

  Except I knock until my fists hurt.

  Place my hands against the door and call his name.

  Lean against the damn thing and beg and plead until desperation swallows my words.

  But the jerk never answers.

  Either he’s not here or he doesn’t want me here. Regardless, I still have more questions than answers. Or rather, I have answers I don’t want to acknowledge.

  Frank let days pass without reaching out. He won’t answer his calls. And now, he’s not even answering his door.

  Maybe I was wrong this whole time. Sure, he didn’t sleep with Bree, but that doesn’t mean he wants to stay with me. Maybe he didn’t lie because he was trying to set me free. Maybe he lied because he was trying to set himself free.

  A weight settles on my shoulders.

  Maybe I had this whole thing wrong from the start. Maybe I was nothing more than a distraction for him. A short-term solution to loneliness who wasn’t ever going to stay in Denver more than a few weeks.

  I lean my back against his door and slide down, tucking my knees against my chest. Now would be an appropriate time to cry. Leaning against the door of the first person I’ve let myself love, realizing he never saw me the way I saw him.

  But the tears won’t come.

  I poke and prod and search for the sadness that should be squeezing my poor heart senseless. The more I push, the less sad I feel.

  Turns out, even when all the evidence is stacked against me, I’m too stubborn to believe what I’m seeing. Frank was falling in love with me, the same way I was falling in love with him. Maybe I was wrong about a lot of things, but I’m not wrong about that.

  I’ll stay right here until he gets home. And when he gets home, I won’t leave until we’ve had an actual discussion about what’s been happening in the last couple days. I settle in to wait, pleased with myself, smiling and nodding as Frank’s neighbor clomps up the walk, grocery bags rattling in his hands.

  The man stops when he sees me. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I heard Frank threaten to call the cops on you last week. The whole damn complex heard him.” The man drops his bags and grabs his phone out of his back pocket. “It’s probably best if you leave.”

  I smile and try to tell the man that he has the wrong woman, but he’s not listening.

  “Listen. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops myself. Frank’s a decent guy.”

  I stand, holding out my hands. “Really. You have the wrong person. It’s not me he’s trying to avoid.”

  “Sure, lady. Like I’m gonna buy that.” The man unlocks his phone and let’s his thumb hover over the screen. “If I were you, I’d get going sooner rather than later.”

  I try to explain one more time, but the man still isn’t listening. While he jams his thumb on the screen, I take the hint and get a move on, scurrying to where my car is parked on the street, thanks to some work being done on the parking garage.

  Unsure of where I’m going, I hop behind the wheel and navigate the streets of Denver once again. After aimlessly taking turns on whims rather than decisions, I end up in front of Derby’s, staring at the intersection where Frank came to my rescue. I try calling him one last time, and when he doesn’t answer, decide to park and stretch my legs, taking in the sights and sounds of the place we first met.

  I wander through the crosswalk where I ran the red light. Where the Mercedes planted itself in my passenger side and Frank rushed to my rescue. Oddly enough, I find myself smiling.

  Isn’t it strange how such a stupid thing could lead to something so wonderful?

  And then, in the blink of an eye, that wonderful thing is gone.

  Everything in life is so damned nebulous. The good. The bad. Each moment is a puff of smoke. There and then gone in an instant. If only there was a way to know when you were in the best of all the moments. To pause and experience the infinity between each second. To close our eyes and inhale the vastness of the world.

  My smile slips from its place as I step onto the sidewalk. And now, while I’m surrounded by people, the tears finally decide to make an appearance. I swipe at my cheeks and duck into Derby’s as I come to the conclusion that I’m running out of options.

  I have nowhere to go.

  Frank doesn’t want to talk to me.

  It doesn’t matter if he didn’t sleep with Bree if he doesn’t want to be found.

  I wander through the mostly empty restaurant, step up to the bar, have a seat, and put my head in my hands.

  I could stick around in Denver, burn through the little bit of savings I’ve built back up in the hopes that somehow, I’ll manage to find Frank and figure out what’s going on.

  Or…

  I could go back to Brookside and put my life back together there.

  Neither option sounds particularly appealing.

  “Sarah?”

  I look up and find myself face to face with Frank. Not the mean, dirty Frank I met at his apartment, but the Frank I know and love. The one with the perfectly messy hair. The light behind his eyes. His glasses slipping down his nose. A pair of jeans and a T-shirt hugging a body that belongs on billboards.

  “Frank?”

  I start to stan
d, intent on rushing into his arms and wrapping myself up in the safety of his strength, but catch myself. I don’t know if he wants me anymore.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks.

  For one second, I consider playing it off like I don’t care. Hiding from the truth. Giving him some nonchalant answer that lets me keep my dignity and then turning around and walking right back out of this place.

  But I don’t do that.

  I can’t do that.

  What Frank and I had is worth way more than my old bullshit.

  “I was looking for you.” I swallow and cross my arms. “I waited at your apartment, but your neighbor told me he’d call the cops if I didn’t leave, so I ended up back here. The first place I ever saw you.” I shrug, not sure what else to say now that I’m finally staring Frank in the face. “You?”

  Relief softens the space between his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you, too.”

  I hold myself tight, unsure of what to do or say next. The past few days have been so confusing, so filled with doubt and a million different reasons for different sides of the story to be true. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to try better than that. I’ve been calling you all morning…”

  Frank steps closer as his eyes beg me for something I don’t understand. “I broke my phone, being a douchebag. Or I would have called you the minute I got myself under control. I tried to come see you at work,” Frank says. “I wanted to meet you out front first thing this morning, but I didn’t know they were repaving my garage and my car got towed. By the time I got to McDougan & Kent, you were gone. Jason told me you went to my place, and there’s an Uber on the way to take me there, but I came in here to wait. Because it’s the first place we met.”

  I widen my eyes and stifle a laugh. I’m supposed to be mad at him. I think. Or maybe I’m supposed to be understanding, because lord knows we all make mistakes, me most of all. But really, all I feel is thankful that he’s standing here in front of me. “Your car got towed?”

  “Yeah. Talk about a shitty day, you know? No phone. No car. No way to find the woman I love.”

  His words launch fireworks in my heart.

  The woman I love.

  Be still.

  Be patient.

  Hear him out.

  But my heart has heard all it needs to hear. The woman I love. And it rejoices.

  “I didn’t sleep with Bree. I told you that because I needed you to leave. Because I thought…” Frank shakes his head. “That’s the thing. I wasn’t thinking. I was caught up in self-destructing and couldn’t think around my own self-pity. I thought I was doing you a favor…”

  “I see…”

  “And I know it was low and I know it hurt and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m going to ask you for it anyway because damn it, Sarah. I love you. You’re everything I ever needed and I know I don’t have anything to offer you…”

  I place a finger over his lips and then pull him onto the stool next to me. “You keep saying that and I have no idea what you mean. Of course you have something to offer me. You’ve brought me so much more than I ever knew to hope for and it all came from right here.” I tap his temple. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want your things. Or your fancy apartment. All I want is you. I love you, so damn much. And sure, things are up in the air right now. For both of us. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

  “I’m done with drinking. I never want to be that person again. I thought I had it all figured out, me and my one drink limit, but it looks like I gave myself too much credit.”

  I cup his face in my hands and then smile as his glasses slide down his nose. “I’m here for you,” I say, “in the same way you were here for me. I’ve never fought for anything. Every time things got hard, I ran away in one form or another, but damn it. I’m going to fight for us.”

  Sarah

  Styrofoam takeout boxes sit empty and forgotten on the table while Jason and Frank talk about the future. They gesture wildly, eyes alive and vibrant as they jot down notes and ideas about what they want their new firm to look like. I’m reminded of all the photos I’ve seen of the beginning of giant companies like Google or Amazon—just a couple of guys in a basement or garage with nothing other than passion and good ideas.

  Jason slides his notebook out of the way and leans forward. “The thing is, with McDougan & Kent firmly established here in Denver, I’m not sure we’re giving ourselves the best possible start by setting up to compete with them.”

  I stand and gather the trash from the table. I agree with him. They need to pick up and move. It’s a realization I came to a couple days ago, but can’t wrap my head around because I don’t know where I fit into that equation.

  Frank runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. You’re right there. I’ve been thinking about that, too. New York City or California seem like solid options. Thoughts?”

  My heart leaps at the thought of California, but I clamp down on the excitement. This isn’t my discussion. I mean, I have some mad receptionist skills, but other than that, there’s not much I bring to the table as far as sustainable architecture goes.

  “What do you think, Sarah?” Jason leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head.

  I drop the silverware in the sink and cram the takeout boxes into the trash and then lean against the counter. “I think you’re right.”

  Jason studies me for a long moment and then a thought flashes across his face. “Nora told me about the building you drew. That night at Impossible Design? I had some thoughts about that.”

  Frank draws his brows together. “You drew a building?”

  “Yeah. It was a silly thing that would never meet code, according to Nora. Just something to pass the time.”

  Jason laughs. “And also, according to Nora, it was really good. She said you had some serious skills. As an artist, not an architect, of course.”

  “Of course. Although, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I have skills. I just doodle when I’m bored.”

  “How is it that I don’t know my girlfriend has serious skills as an artist?” Frank looks appalled.

  “That’s not something that just pops up in every day conversation, you know?”

  Frank stands and makes his way to me, a funny look on his face. “I love that there is still so much I have to learn about you.” He sweeps me into his arms, his gaze locked on mine, and kisses me, his hands roaming my body as if he intends to learn the rest of my secrets this very minute.

  Jason rolls his eyes and then clears his throat. “Anyway, as I was saying…” He waits for Frank to release my lips. “I thought maybe we could do our own take on Impossible Design. Sarah could draw a building, one that would never work in real life, and the challenge would be to make it work.” He goes on to explain all the ways he’d want the challenge to be different, all the ways it could be better. His enthusiasm is contagious and excitement builds in my belly at the thought of being part of what these two men are building.

  Frank glares at Jason until the litany of ideas tapers off. Jason’s lips part. “Don’t tell me you haven’t asked her yet.”

  “Gee. Let me see. I told you I was going to ask her after you left and last I checked, you’re still here…”

  “Ask me what?”

  Jason begins apologizing and I lean around to put my face directly in Frank’s field of vision. “Hey. Hi. Remember me?” I give him my best aren’t I cute face. “What are you going to ask me?”

  Frank catches my gaze and smiles at me. He cups my face and runs a thumb along my cheek. “Imagine it’s just the two of us. Imagine candles and soft music.”

  I nod, eager for him to get to the good part. “I’m imagining.”

  “Okay, good. See, I want you to move in with me for real. I want to go to Ohio and get all of your stuff and mix it up with my stuff. I want to go to bed with you and wake up with you. I can’t think of a better way to learn all the things I still want to learn about you.”

  The answer to
his question is a no-brainer. For me, home isn’t a place. It’s a person. It’s him. Frank Wilde. The man who stopped to help me when no one else would. The man who gave me the strength to see everything I was missing, the courage to take responsibility for my own mistakes and force my family to take responsibility for theirs.

  I grab Frank’s face and kiss him loudly on the lips. “Of course I’ll move in with you!”

  Frank smiles and then leans in to kiss me, his body pressing against mine. After several wonderful minutes, Jason clears his throat again. “Just a reminder that I’m still here.”

  Frank releases my lips. “Yeah…about that…” He runs his hand along my hips as he jerks his head toward the door. “I think it’s about time you got out of here.”

  The next day, after some serious cajoling from me, Frank and Jason decide California is the best place to start their firm and I actually jump up and down in excitement. We spend the rest of the day researching the different cities and finally decide on San Diego. The climate is perfect. The ocean is close.

  “And I’ve always wanted to learn to surf,” Jason says as we all sit, grinning at each other over Wikipedia articles about our new city.

  That night, I draw for Frank. At first, it feels ridiculous as he hovers over the paper, gasping at the images I bring to life. “You could sell this stuff,” he says when I’m done. When I downplay my ability, he continues to gush until I stop feeling ridiculous and start feeling hopeful.

  Maybe I could sell this stuff…

  After a few weeks, Frank comes with me to Brookside to help pack up all my things, to decide what I’m taking and what I’m leaving. Outside of my clothes, some pictures of my family, and other knickknacks I’ve collected over the years, there’s not much I have that’s worth keeping. Most of it finds its way to Goodwill and frankly, I don’t mind at all.

  Giving away the bits and pieces of my old life is like shedding a skin. The final step of moving out of my old ways and into my new. As I watch Colton’s truck trundle off with my furniture bouncing around in the bed, a sense of warmth settles over me.

 

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