by Jennie Marts
The dispatcher responded with a series of codes and an address.
“Twelve. Copy that. I’m en route now.” He narrowed his eyes at Piper. “I’ve gotta go, but I want you to stay inside, lock the doors, and don’t let anyone in you don’t know well or aren’t related to. I’ll check in on you tomorrow, but you can call me if you need me.”
“Thank you,” she said, but he was already gone, the door shutting behind him with a click.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Claire assured her.
“I’m not either,” Fitz said. “I can stay all night if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Piper said. “I know you have a test tomorrow. You need to study.”
“I don’t care about the test.”
She took a hold of his hand. “I care. You’ve already done enough for me. I’ll be okay here with my mom.” She really wanted him to stay—wanted it with everything in her, but her mind was in a tailspin, and she needed time to process everything that had happened that night.
If this thing with him were real, and she prayed it was, that him kissing her tonight wasn’t just a fluke or a moment he felt sorry for her, then they would have time. One night wouldn’t change that.
“I haven’t done anything,” he said. “And I don’t feel right leaving you two here alone.”
“We’re not alone,” Claire told him. “I’ve got my bodyguards, Smith and Wesson, in my bedroom. They’ll protect us.”
“You’ve got a gun?” Piper gawked at her. “Here? In the apartment?”
“Dang straight I do. There’s a killer on the loose.”
“Where is it?”
“Under my pillow.”
“You sleep with a gun?”
“It’s better than some of the things I’ve slept with.”
Ew.
“I’m not sure if I feel better or worse.” She gazed back at Fitz. “But I do know I will feel terrible if you mess up your test because of me and this stupid drama in my life.”
“Having someone attack you isn’t drama. And it isn’t your fault,” he replied. “I’ll go home, but my test is at eight and then I’m coming right back over. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s very okay with me. I would love it.” She would love it so much that her resolve over him leaving now was starting to weaken. In her head, she knew it was best if he left and they both had time to think, him about his test and her about her life and all the things which had happened the last few days, including kissing him. But her heart was crying out with a different kind of plea, one that had nothing to do with logic or what made sense. Her heart only wanted to have him near, to touch, to hold, to kiss him again.
She took a deep breath then let go of his hand and pushed up from the sofa. “You’d better go if you’re still going to get in some study time tonight.”
He looked like he was going to argue again, but instead followed her lead and stood as well. “At least let me take the dog out for you before I go.”
She peered down at the little dog. She should probably go out one more time, but Piper had no desire to repeat her earlier attempt to let the dog outside. “Thank you. That would be nice. But this time, take her leash.”
“Good idea.” He grabbed her leash from the hook by the door and snapped it on her collar. “We’ll be right back.”
“I’m going to get ready for bed.” Claire stood and headed to her room.
While Fitz was outside, Piper quickly brushed her teeth and ran a cool washcloth over her face. Her eyes were still swollen from crying, but at least the black smudges of makeup were gone from under her eyes when she went back to answer his knock.
“All good,” Fitz said, unclipping the leash and hanging it on the hook.
Piper loved the way the dog ran around her legs and acted so excited to see her, even though she’d only been gone for a few minutes.
“Thank you,” she said, suddenly feeling shy and awkward and not sure where to put her hands.
He resolved her problem by stepping close and wrapping his arms around her.
Snuggling against him, she slid her arms around his back. She rested her head against his chest, loving the way her cheek fit perfectly into the depression of his shoulder. “Thank you. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad to finally be here. With you. Like this.” He squeezed her tighter to him.
She tipped her head back and looked up at him. “Finally?”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I have thought about this so many times. You have to know that I’ve liked you forever.”
“No. I didn’t know that at all. If I would have, I never would have gone out with those three other stupid guys.”
Including the one who might be trying to kill me.
“I thought you just did that to make me jealous. Like you were playing some kind of ‘girl game.’”
“I don’t play ‘girl games’. I don’t play games at all. I only agreed to go out with them because you said you thought my mom might be right and I should start dating again.”
“I did say that. But I meant dating me.”
Oh.
He shook his head. “I was too nervous to come right out and ask you, then I thought I missed my chance.”
“What would you have to be nervous about?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you kidding me? Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“Yeah, I just did. And I saw a girl with red, puffy eyes who looks like she’s just been on the losing end of a fight with a tornado.” She reached to smooth her mussed hair.
He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “I see a beautiful girl who is smart and funny and has the biggest heart of anyone I know. I see a girl who always puts others ahead of herself, a girl who had her heart broken by an idiot who didn’t cherish the best thing that ever happened to him, and a girl who is totally out of my league.”
“Out of your league? Are you kidding me? We’re not even playing in the same game.”
“I know.”
“No. I don’t mean it like that. Geez. I could never imagine a guy like you wanting to go out with someone like me.”
“What does that mean?”
“Come on, Fitz. Besides the fact you are gorgeous and all tall and muscle-y. I’ve also seen the textbooks you study. I don’t even understand the titles of those books, let alone what they say inside of them. You’re practically a genius.” A blush of heat crept up her cheeks. “You’re the Brilliant Barista.”
He grinned. “The what?”
She shrugged, too embarrassed to look at him. “It’s just the nickname I call you in my head. I never meant to say it out loud.”
“I like it. I think I’ll order myself a new name tag for work that declares it.” He tilted her chin to look at him. “Seriously, Piper. I do like you.”
“Why?” She whispered. “I could never be good enough for you.”
“You are too good for me.” He touched a finger to her lips. “Can’t we just agree we like each other? Because I would sure rather be kissing you than wasting another second arguing.”
She grinned. “See, I told you that you’re brilliant.”
He chuckled then slanted his mouth across hers, capturing her laugh in a kiss.
His lips were warm, soft, and she melted against him. Her hands clutched the back of his jacket as she held on, trying to keep her knees from buckling and sinking to the floor.
This felt like a dream, like something that happened to other girls, not her. Not a dorky girl who was awkward and introverted and way too much of a smart aleck. Girls like her didn’t get to be thoroughly kissed by hot, brainy guys who could have their pick of whoever they wanted.
But for some crazy reason, the Brilliant Barista wanted her.
And she wanted him. Wanted him with everything in her.
Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she was sure he could feel it beating agains
t his. Coils of heat shimmered and swirled in her stomach, and she wanted to climb him like a monkey. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the sexiest comparison, but it was all she could think of as she clung to him, trying to get closer.
He bent forward, sliding his hands under her butt and lifting her up. She caught her breath, but wrapped her legs around him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And a little similar to that monkey-climbing idea.
Licks of fire burned up her spine as she wondered—hoped—he would carry her, like a fireman, to the bedroom and toss her on the bed. But instead of walking toward her bedroom, he lifted her onto the center island, setting her on the counter then laying a trail of kisses across her cheek and down her neck.
Apparently, Fitz would make a terrible fireman, because contrary to the work of an actual fireman who puts fires out, his actions only fanned the flames of her desire.
She tipped her head back, her breath ragged, as her fingers, tingling with the need to touch him, dug into his back.
His hands were everywhere, touching, rubbing, moving up her sides, up her neck to cup her face as he kissed her hard, then around her cheeks to tunnel into her hair.
Her body felt flooded with warmth, her skin flushed with heat, and she arched her back, giving him more of her to kiss, to caress.
A large thud hit the wall in her mom’s room, and Fitz pulled back, leaving her breathless and already missing the warmth of his body against hers.
All her nerve endings were stirring and left tingling from his touch, and Piper tried to focus her spinning head as she called out, “You all right in there, Mom?”
“Yep,” came her yelled response. “Just wanted to make sure you guys remembered that I’m here.”
Fitz’s cheeks were flushed and pink as an impish grin spread across his face. “Your mom’s a smart one. I completely forgot she was in the next room.”
“I completely forgot my own name,” she said, fanning herself with her hand.
Fitz laughed. “Nice. I should probably get going,” he said, offering her a roguish grin. “Before I start kissing you again and completely forget to ever leave.”
A shiver of longing swirled up her spine, and she peered up at him from under her eyelashes. “Ever?”
“Ever.” He deepened his voice, affecting the tone of an English knight. “I’ll drag you, my fair maiden, to your bedchamber and keep you holed up in your room for days on end—your luscious body, some ale, and an occasional slab of roast beast the only things I need for sustenance.”
She giggled. “Wow. You are a total dork. Is that the voice you use when you play Dungeons & Dragons?”
He kept the accent, but added a sheepish grin, as he said, “Possibly. Although I’ve never spoke of a fair maiden or her bedchamber in any of the rounds of D & D I’ve played. And I don’t think I’ve ever said the word ‘luscious’ to a woman before. Or ever used it in a sentence.”
Piper shrugged and offered him what she hoped was a seductive grin. “I liked that part.”
He laughed and pulled her into another hug then lifted her from the counter and set her back on her feet. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her cheek, then spoke quietly into her hair. “I like you.”
His words tickled her ear and sent another bundle of heat swirling through her belly. She hugged him back. “I like you, too.”
“I’ll be back over tomorrow, as soon as I finish my test.”
“Sounds good.”
“And I’ll bring some food. Donuts or something.”
“Not roast beast.”
He chuckled. “No, probably donuts. But just so you know, if it came down to it, I would slay some roast beast for you.”
His words sent a sudden chill skittering down her back. She didn’t know why, but something hit her like a fist to the chest, stealing her breath, and sending a wave of dizziness through her.
“Whoa. You okay?” Fitz gripped Piper’s arm to steady her. “You looked funny there for a second. I thought you might pass out or something.”
She scrubbed a hand across her forehead, the feeling gone.
What the heck was that? It had been strong, but just for a second, like that funny saying about feeling as if someone had walked over your grave.
That was stupid. She didn’t even have a grave. Not yet, anyway.
Maybe it was just low blood sugar. When was the last time she’d eaten? She couldn’t remember. She was drained.
Did she really even feel something or was her body just mentally and physically wiped out? “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
“You’ve had a rough day.” He tipped his chin and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll text you in the morning.”
“Good luck on your test.” She closed the door after him, pressing in the lock and twisting the deadbolt into place.
She checked the latches on the windows and turned off all the lights in the main room. The dog followed her into her bedroom and jumped on the bed as she switched on her bedside lamp and crawled in after her.
It felt good to crawl under the covers and sink into her pillow. Her body felt drained like all her energy was spent.
“Hey,” her mom said, poking her head into her bedroom. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I think so. Just tired.”
Claire nodded to the chair piled with clothes in the corner of the room. “You want me to stay in here with you tonight? I could move those clothes and sleep in the chair.”
Piper shook her head, surprised—and touched, by the offer. “No, but I appreciate the thought.”
“Mind if I sit?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Claire settled on the end of the bed. The little dog, who had been curled by Piper’s shoulder, got up and crossed the comforter to sniff at her mom’s cheek. The dog settled next to her, resting her head on Claire’s leg.
She smiled and brushed a hand across the dog’s head. “She really is kind of a cute thing. Have you settled on a name yet?”
“Yeah. Actually, I just decided tonight. I’m going to call her Nola.”
“Nola?”
“It’s short for her favorite snack—granola bars.”
Claire chuckled. “Cute. It fits her too.” She scratched the dog’s ear, a faraway look in her eye. “You know, I really loved your dad.”
A lump landed solidly in Piper’s throat. What part of left field had that come out of? “I know.”
“I’m not sure you do, but I hope you find out. I hope you love someone that much someday. Or maybe not. Maybe you should hope you never do. Because having a love like that, one so strong, one where you feel so connected to the other person, almost as if you are one soul, can consume you. And it can rip you apart when you lose it. Like slash open giant holes inside of you. Holes in you that you don’t know how to fill. Holes and rips so deep and painful you don’t know how to breathe around them, how to survive the damage of them.”
Her mom hadn’t talked much about her dad’s death, not in a long time, and not with such genuine honesty.
Claire’s gaze remained fixed on the opposite wall, and she absently rubbed the back of her hand as she spoke. “When Denny died, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to live without him—didn’t know how to live at all. I just fell apart. And that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, but they didn’t spill over. “I was selfish and callous. I could only think about myself—about my pain and what I was going through. But that was so wrong of me. I see that now. I didn’t then. I couldn’t see beyond my own suffering. But I see it now. I see how I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t help this precious little girl who was hurting too—who had just lost her daddy.”
A lone tear slipped from Piper’s eye and rolled down her cheek.
She didn’t wipe it away, didn’t move, she barely breathed as she listened to her mom say the things she had always longed to hear.
“That poor little girl. It shatters my heart to think abou
t what I did to her. She must have been so lonely.”
I was.
“I never should have left.”
No. You shouldn’t have.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t. I wasn’t thinking, and I hate myself for what I did. It was negligent and reckless. I was careless with the only important thing I had left in my life—the most important thing. You.”
Yes. You were.
Everything her mom was saying was true. But hearing the words and hearing her recognize and for the first time sound regretful, and remorseful, for what she’d done was making Piper’s stomach hurt and her chest burn with the emotions battering against it.
“I don’t know what to do or how to fix it. I can’t go back. I can’t change what I did. I can only go forward and try to do better. Be better. Be a better mom.” She tore her gaze from the wall finally and looked at Piper. Her face was pale, and she bit down on her bottom lip as if trying to keep it from trembling. “And that starts with telling you I’m sorry.”
Piper’s arms were crossed, and she held them tightly around her stomach, as if trying to hold herself together. She forced herself to swallow over the painful ache in her throat. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for saying that.”
“It’s true, baby. I’m so utterly, desperately sorry.” Her voice caught as she said, “Can you forgive me?”
Piper wanted to. She wanted to hug her, to crawl into her lap like she’d done when she was a little girl—to let her mom rub her back and kiss her hurts away. But she couldn’t. Not yet. The wounds from her mom’s abandonment were too raw. She’d thought they were scabbed over, dried out, and merely scars by now. But evidently, they were just festering, waiting to be picked open and to bleed again.
She didn’t know how to do this. It had been so long—if ever—that her mom had spoken frankly with her, had tried to communicate with her at all. She wanted to tell her everything was okay, that all was forgiven and everything would be great now. But she couldn’t do that either.
She wanted to say those things, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Instead, she took a deep shuddering breath and simply said, “I’m trying.”
A faint smile crossed her lips, and Claire gave her head a small nod. “Thank you. That’s all I can ask for. And that’s what I’m doing too.”