“No. I’m so sorry, Hannah, I didn’t know it was a pink party.”
“Well, that’s okay, I guess. Do you know why we’re having a pink party?”
“No. Why?” he asked, while at the same time Emily said in a low warning tone, “Hannah.”
Oblivious to her aunt’s distress, Hannah launched into a giant run-on. “Auntie said she was feeling blue, so I told her she should have a pink party, and she said we could, and so we planned it, and I got to come sleep over here and leave my stupid brothers at home, and Auntie and I are having the best pink party ever.”
The weight of Hannah’s words, though delivered so lightly, fell heavily on Mac’s chest. Emily was sad. And it was his fault.
He struggled to make his lungs expand and take in air. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve been feeling blue,” he said to Emily.
“It’s nothing.” She fiddled with the flowers, fingering the petals and refusing to look at him.
“No, it’s not nothing.” His voice came out as a raspy whisper.
He stepped toward her, dying to hold her in his arms, but Hannah jumped between them. “You are just in time, did you know that?”
He sincerely hoped so. “In time for what?”
“To tell me my bedtime story! I’m sleeping in Auntie’s room tonight and now that you’re here, you can tell me a bedtime story. Just like you did before!”
He glanced at Emily. “Is that all right with you?”
“I suppose, if that’s what Hannah wants.” She looked down at her niece, still avoiding eye contact with him.
“Yay!” Hannah grabbed his hand, led him through the tiny but tastefully furnished apartment, and pulled him into Emily’s bedroom.
The bedroom fit Emily perfectly. It was warm and inviting, with an array of books and candles crowding the nightstand and a bed decorated more for comfort than style. The sage colored cotton duvet was topped with a variety of fluffy pillows, perfect for reclining against with a good book.
Hannah jumped up onto the bed, treating it as a trampoline for a moment, before falling on her bottom and squirming under the covers.
“All right. So what kind of story are we talking about here?” he asked.
“A good one with a happy ending,” Hannah said, patting an empty space next to her on the bed, motioning for Mac to sit. He took a seat and tucked the covers in around her shoulders.
“Well, of course there should be a happy ending. Everyone loves a happily ever after.” He glanced at Emily, who was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, her expression unreadable. He hoped everyone loved a happy ending.
“There once was a princess—” Mac began.
“No, you’re s’pposed to say, there once was a beautiful princess.”
“Hey, who’s telling the story here?”
“You are, but you have to tell it right,” Hannah said, her tone very serious.
He tried not to laugh.
“Okay, I’ll do my best. There once was a beautiful princess with long shiny hair the color of a new penny and eyes as blue as the ocean.”
“Like Aunt Emily?”
He risked another glance at Emily. She looked like she was gearing up for an argument, her eyes narrowed at him.
He wasn’t good at talking about his feelings. Shit, that’d been his problem for ages, but maybe telling Hannah this bedtime story was a gift. An opportunity to tell Emily everything that was in his heart. All the things he found it so difficult to say.
“Yes, exactly like your Aunt Emily,” he said, his gaze returning to Hannah. “She was the most beautiful princess in all the land, and she was loved by all of her kingdom. But she wasn’t loved just because she was beautiful. Her people adored her because she was good and generous, and she treated everyone she met with kindness.”
Hannah nodded her approval.
“One day, a prince came to the kingdom—”
“A handsome prince?”
He smiled. “Yes, a very handsome prince. He was the strongest man in the kingdom and no woman could resist his charm.” Mac ignored a cough coming from the general direction of the doorway. “But the prince had been away, leading his army in a war to protect his country, and he had seen some terrible things that made him very sad. When he came to the princess’s kingdom he didn’t enjoy being around people anymore.”
“The prince was lonely, wasn’t he?” Hannah’s voice was soft and serious.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat, trying to erase the rasp from his voice. “The prince was very lonely.” He didn’t look to the doorway, but he was acutely aware of Emily’s presence, could feel her gaze boring into his back, and hoped she was hearing every word. This story, it was all for her.
“But when the prince met the princess, he remembered how to laugh. She helped him to forget the ugly things he’d seen. And during the times when he couldn’t forget the things that made him sad, she let him know that he was not alone.”
“And the prince fell in love with the princess,” Hannah whispered, clearly enjoying the fairytale. It was his real-life fairytale. Or it had been. For a while anyway.
“Yes, he did. But one day, a…court jester told the prince some things that made him wonder if the princess really loved him, and instead of listening to the princess, he got angry and left the kingdom.”
Hannah gasped. “But of course the princess loved him!”
“Well, the prince realized his mistake, and he knew that he didn’t want to be without the princess, so he returned to her kingdom to ask her forgiveness.”
“And did she forgive him?” Hannah asked, now half sitting up in the bed with anticipation.
“Well, you asked for a happy ending, right? So, I think she will have to forgive him, don’t you?”
Hannah pondered that for a moment. “I think the prince will have to beg first because it wasn’t very nice of him to leave without listening to the princess.”
Mac nodded.
“But then, yes, she will forgive him,” Hannah said magnanimously.
“And they’ll live happily ever after,” Mac said, desperately hoping it was true.
* * *
After Emily said goodnight to Hannah, she closed the bedroom door and saw Mac waiting for her at the end of the hallway. She ached for him and was disappointed to realize that a small part of her wanted to run into his arms. But another, much more dominant part of her clung to the anger churning inside.
“So, what were you thinking with that?” she asked, walking toward him and stopping just out of arm’s reach. “Did you think you would tell my niece some cute little story and I would just fall into your arms? Did you think it would be that easy?” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin.
“No, I didn’t think it would be that easy.” He ran his hand through his auburn locks, leaving them disheveled, and smiled sheepishly. “Hannah warned me the prince would have to beg.”
She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help laughing a little at that. “Yeah, ya think?” Her humor was short-lived, however, with all the anger and pain of the last weeks coming back in a rush. “You must’ve had a really low opinion of me to think I was using you as my own personal social experiment. I mean, how could you think I was so cold?”
“Emily, I—”
“Did you think it was all just an act? Did you think I pretended to love you? That I slept with you for therapeutic reasons?”
“I don’t know what I thought. I think I lost my head the moment I met you, and I haven’t been thinking clearly since.”
Jaw clenched, she steeled herself against his charm, refusing to be moved by his smile. She took a step back, but he stalked toward her. “You pushed me away when we needed each other the most,” she said. Something in her voice must have gotten to him then, because his brown-eyed gaze snapped up to hers, full of remorse. Words continued to spill out, finding their way between the sobs she was trying to hold back. “I wanted to be with you, to take care of yo
u while you were recovering, and not because I need to be needed, but because I love you.”
She knew he was here to ask her forgiveness, knew that he was ready to offer everything she wanted, but he’d hurt her so badly, it was hard to let go of the anger, the pain. “And you took that away from me—from us. So much time wasted because of your stupid pride.”
She would have continued railing against him, but he stepped forward and placed his hands on her face, forcing her to look directly at him, stopping her tirade with his tortured gaze.
“Emily, please listen.”
She stayed still.
His grip loosened but his hands remained on her face, his thumbs moving back and forth in a soothing caress, brushing away the tears that streamed unchecked down her face. “I was a complete idiot. You’re right, and I’m so sorry.”
He ran his fingers through her hair and she closed her eyes a moment, losing herself in his touch.
“I got it all wrong,” he said. “I hated feeling weak. I was scared of needing you more than you needed me. But finding out how I’ve hurt you…I started to think…to wonder if…maybe you need me too?”
Of course she needed him. “You’re such an idiot.”
“I know, and I’ll do anything, anything at all, to make it up to you.” His words tumbled out in a rush, like a man pleading for mercy, begging for his life. “I turned in a letter of application to the chief today. Dorsey’s retiring and I put in for his detective spot. I know how much you hate that I’m a cop—how hard it was for you after I was shot. I can’t make any guarantees, anything could happen, but this would keep me off the streets. Most of the time anyway.”
Staring into his warm chocolate eyes, her anger began to melt away.
“Do you think you could be with a detective?” he asked, as if his every happiness, his very existence depended on her answer.
“Mac, you can’t do that for me. I wouldn’t ask you to.”
“I know, but it’s what I want. It’s the part of police work I enjoy most, a career move I probably would have made eventually anyway.” His voice turned husky. “Emily, you told me once that I deserved to be happy. Do you still believe that?”
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly.
“And do you know what makes me happy?”
He moved closer to her—the length of his body pressing against hers, his hands still gently cradling her face, as if he was holding some priceless treasure—and she lost the ability to speak.
“Loving you makes me happy. Being with you makes me happy. Making you happy makes me happy.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “Please forgive me, Em. Forgive me for ever doubting that what we shared was real.”
His lips were so close, the heat from his mouth a soft caress against hers. “Please, Emily. I love you.”
The desperation in his voice cracked the walls of her resistance until they fell away completely, leaving nothing but a pile of rubble. Surrendering, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Promise me you won’t push me away again, because I couldn’t take it, Mac. I want to be with you. Always. Not just when things are going well, but all the time, through everything. And I need you to be there with me too.”
He kissed her then, his lips moving over hers with gentle urgency, and between kisses he whispered, “I promise, Em. I promise you for better, for worse. Forever and always.”
Thank you for reading Talk to Me. I hope you enjoyed it!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stephanie Reid is hard at work on her next novel, Trust in Me, which will tell the story of Emily’s friend Sandra. When Stephanie’s not writing books, she’s reading them, a habit that ensures a perpetually messy home. Thankfully, she has a husband willing to indulge her book addiction and three children who occasionally take pity on her and pick up their own toys.
Acknowledgements
This book would not have been possible without the love and support of many important people. Much love and gratitude to my mother who was so certain of my writing talent, she bought me a book on how to become published for my sixteenth birthday. Mom, you’ll always be my first fan. And huge thanks to my dad, who read a first draft of Talk to Me (the whole thing, even with the love scenes…yes, I wanted to die of embarrassment…I may seek therapy later) and returned it to me with 17 grammatical corrections. Dad, I love you and your attention to detail.
I have also received tremendous support from other writers like Karla Sorensen and the members of my RWA chapter, Heart & Scroll. I’m in awe of your talent and continue to learn from each of you every time we meet. Many thanks also to Carrie Jones for beta reading Talk to Me. Your insightful comments made this story better.
Very sincere and heartfelt thanks to my critique partners Katrina Kirkpatrick and Brenda Rothert. Katrina, not only is your advice invaluable, but your humor and originality inspire me each time I read your pages. And Brenda, thank you for your incredible attention to detail and talent for wordsmithery, for helping me navigate the ins and outs of publishing, and for championing this book. You are The Wind.
And last, but never least, to my children who make every day brighter. And to my husband, who supports my dream in countless ways (often by doing countless loads of laundry) and who never fails to bring the comedy to our romance. I love you all more than you’ll ever know.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Acknowledgements
Talk to Me Page 27