Remember When

by Annabeth DenBoer

  It hadn’t taken Phee long to realize Alex’s dour reserve was a side effect of masking a lifetime of constant pain. He couldn’t indulge in the same adrenaline junky antics as Phillip with his extreme mountain biking, bungee jumping and failed attempt at parkour which resulted in a trip to the emergency room. Instead, Alex swam, stretching and strengthening his muscles to combat the stress SEDT put on his joints.

  Once, Phillip had to stop by the gym where Alex swam to pick up a key for their mother. Phee had gone with him. She’d stood waiting with Phillip, trying not to gawk in admiration too obviously as she watched Alex burn laps across the pool. The SEDT might hobble him on land, but he was as agile and strong as a dolphin in the water. By the look of him in his wedding finery, he was still an avid swimmer.

  “Do you like Dubai?” she said. He’d lived there the past five years, lead architect for an international firm known worldwide for its graceful skyscraper designs.

  He shrugged. “It’s hot, sprawling and exploding with tourists. If you like to shop and have plenty of money, it’s the perfect playground. If you like tall buildings, it’s a visual feast.” He winked at Phee. “I like tall buildings.”

  Phee grinned. “Imagine that, Mr. Architect.” It had always made perfect sense to her why he’d chosen such a career. He couldn’t fix the compromised bones genetics had given him, but he could design the steel skeletons of buildings—make them strong; make them soar; make them last.

  The piano player began another slow ballad. Phee stood and held out her hand. “Another dance before we have to return to the reception? They’ve probably cut the cake by now.”

  Alex rose to join her, and Phee glided into his arms, wishing she could stay there forever. She didn’t ask him how long he intended to stay in the States before returning to Dubai. Any answer other than “Permanently,” would be too short. He’d leave again, and she’d grieve again. She refused to ruin this wonderful evening by dwelling on his inevitable departure.

  ***

  He felt marvelous in her arms, fit perfectly against her body and made every nerve ending spark. She twirled a lock of his hair around one finger as they danced. “I like the hair and beard,” she said near his ear. “A little bit of the rebel peeking through. Nice contrast with the tux and glasses.” She felt his smile against her temple.

  “Thanks. I thought I’d try something different.”

  The close-cut beard emphasized the line of his jaw and his high cheekbones, while the length of his hair put its extraordinary red color center stage and front.

  “I imagine you stand out in a crowd in Dubai.” Alex would stand out in a crowd anywhere.

  “My winning personality does that,” he said in a dry voice.

  Phee chortled and tugged on his hair. Her hand wandered under the long locks, sifting through silky strands until she reached his collar and his nape. He shivered when she touched his skin there.

  “Let’s say I take a vacation to Dubai,” she said. “Where would I go? What could I see?”

  Alex’s hand caressed her back, tracing swirls and circles over her spine. “You’d have to stay at the Burj Al Arab hotel. It’s built to look like a ship’s sail and stands on an artificial island.”

  “Sounds expensive.”

  “A thousand dollars a night for the cheap rooms.”

  Phee jerked away, eyes wide. “Are you serious? At that price I couldn’t afford to sleep in one of the bathtubs.”

  Alex tugged her back to him. “You’d be my guest. You won’t have to sleep in the tub.”

  The breath hitched in her chest. Would she sleep next to him? Would they even sleep if they shared a bed? The posh surroundings would be wasted on her. She’d be solely focused on Alex. His broad shoulders flexed under her hands as she smoothed his coat. “Sounds swanky but not that exotic.”

  One bronze eyebrow lifted. “Ah, well, if it’s exotic you want, we can stay at the Hydropolis.” Phee almost didn’t hear the rest of his description, caught on the “we” in his statement. “It’s an underwater resort hotel not far from Jumeirah Beach. You can lie in bed and watch fish swim over your head.”

  Considering his affinity with water, Phee could see how that might appeal to Alex. She’d be up half the night wondering when the sea would crush the barrier glass and drown her. “What else? Places to visit? Things to eat?”

  “If you visited in winter, I’d take you to the Miracle Gardens. Millions of flowers blooming in the biggest garden in the world.” He tucked his chin in to catch her eye. “Speaking of plants, how many ferns have you killed since I last saw you?”

  Phee sniffed. “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds you’ll accuse me of being a serial plant killer.”

  “Hundreds then. That’s what I thought.”

  She gently swatted his arm. “You’re wandering off topic. Expensive hotels, big flower garden. What else?”

  His voice changed in a way that alerted her he was imagining his surroundings in Dubai. “You can see the Persian Gulf,” he said. “The water is the color of jade near the beach, cobalt as it gets deeper. I’ll take you to Al Dhiyafah Road where you’ll eat the freshest seafood and finest grilled lamb in the Levant. And five times a day, you’ll hear the call to prayer. Even if you don’t follow Islam, there’s something about the sound that makes you want to drop to your knees.”

  They’d swayed to a stop as he recounted his recollections of Dubai. Partially hidden by the wall of blooming jasmine, they held each other in the darkness. Tears blurred Phee’s vision. “You didn’t say goodbye when you left, Alex.”

  He stayed relaxed in her arms, but she felt the tension in his hands as he clutched her waist and pressed the side of his face to hers. “Then I wouldn’t have left, Phee.”

  One tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. “You should have stayed. We could have worked it out.”

  He pressed a fingertip under her chin, nudging her head up so she’d meet his gaze. Lantern light reflected on his glasses, hiding the expression in his eyes. “Work what out? My brother was engaged to the woman I wanted, the woman I’d fallen in love with. The woman I came this close...” He held up one hand, forefinger and thumb pinched together. “...to making love to in her apartment foyer.”

  “We didn’t even kiss each other!”

  His eyebrows crashed together in a fierce frown. “Good thing too, because we wouldn’t have stopped there, and you know it. We would have been lucky to make it to your couch before I was inside you.” He let her go and stepped back. Phee mourned the distance. “I left because if I stayed we would have betrayed Phillip.”

  She shook her head. “No, we wouldn’t. We didn’t, and there was no way I was going to go through with the engagement after that.” Phee smeared away her tears with one hand. “I didn’t want to hurt Phillip anymore than you did. I was going to break it off with him the next day. He and I were just going through the motions by then. He knew it before I did and beat me to the punch.” She gave Alex a weak smile. “Seemed he’d met someone who loved shark cage diving and jumping out of airplanes for fun and relaxation.”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Mom told me about her. Built for fun but not long-term.”

  Frustration welled inside Phee. “If you knew we were no longer together, why didn’t you call? Write? Text? Something? Five years of radio silence. For someone who supposedly fell in love with me, you sure forgot me quick.”

  Alex crossed his arms and scowled. “I never forgot you, Seraphina. Every fucking second—from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning until I passed out at night, I saw your face.” He pointed an accusing finger at her. “Pot meet kettle. Five years and no call or text from you either.”

  Phee’s face burned at the realization of her hypocrisy. She winced, and the tide of indignation she surfed flattened. “You’re right. I could have contacted you too. I was afraid.” He snorted at that. She asked the one question that had haunted her ever since he left her apartment, white as chalk and sick with guilt. They mi
ght not have betrayed Phillip in body, but they’d done so in spirit. “Did you hate me when you left that night?”

  Alex sighed. His arms relaxed to his sides. “I’ve never hated you, Phee. Hell, we wouldn’t even be tangled up like this if I did. For a little while I hated my brother because I envied him. Then I hated myself because for just a minute, I didn’t give a damn what he might think or how it might hurt if he knew how I felt about you. Hell, he trusted me to get you home because he was too drunk to drive. You know he never suspected his brother would try and seduce his fiancée. Places switched, and I’d want to rip his guts out.” He slid his fingers under his glasses to rub his eyes. “I’ve been rightfully accused of being a supreme shithead by some people, including Phillip. I almost crossed a line there, and if I did, I wasn’t going back. You belonged to my brother. I had to leave.”

  Phee couldn’t fault Alex completely. He loved his brother, and loyalty to a sibling carried a lot of emotional baggage with it. Still, he needed a little enlightening.

  “Alex, I’m not a lamp or a table,” she said softly. “Phillip didn’t buy me at an auction. I didn’t belong to him—any more than he belonged to me. Looking back on it, I can honestly say Phillip didn’t love me, and I didn’t love him.” Phee shrugged. “And unlike us, he’s happily moved on with someone else.”

  She closed the distance Alex had put between them. Relief coursed through her when she slid her arms around his shoulders and felt his encircle her waist so that his hands rested warm on her lower back. She arched into him, his face so close to hers that his breath tickled her lips. “I think I’ve loved you all my life,” she whispered. “Even before I met you.”

  Phee kissed him then, a slow lingering caress in which she learned the shape of his bottom lip and then the top, the straight ridge of his teeth and the warmth of his mouth when he finally opened to her. He tasted sweeter than sugar-glazed violets, richer than toffee, more decadent than baklava drenched in Tupelo honey.

  Her hands wandered into his hair to stroke his scalp, and the control he’d held while she explored his mouth evaporated with a low groan. Alex clutched her to him and kissed her hard. Hands roamed and stroked, and somewhere in Phee’s passion-fogged mind, she thanked fortune for the concealing curtain of jasmine that hid them from the rest of the people sharing the hotel rooftop with them.

  They broke apart when they ran out of air, though Alex refused to lessen the tight grip he had on her. Phee stroked her thumbs over his cheekbones and the soft hair of his beard. She wiggled out of his hold despite his hoarse protest and returned to their table. Alex followed her, limping and adjusting his coat to hide the erection pressed against his trousers. Phee dug a pen out of her clutch purse and scribbled rapidly on a cocktail napkin.

  Alex’s features were flushed, his pupils so dilated they swallowed the blue of his irises. He gave her a puzzled look when she leaned over the table and tucked the folded napkin into his breast pocket. His heartbeat thundered beneath her palm, a match to her own racing pulse.

  Her voice sounded thin to her ears. “I’m going home. My address is on that napkin. I’ll be awake as long as I need to be.” Phee slid a finger across his lips, shivering at the flutter of his kiss.

  She left him standing by their table, her breathing staccato with anticipation and sheer terror. If he didn’t show, she was done. Life was too short, and she refused to spend another five years pining for a man who would sacrifice himself and her on an altar of guilt over an almost-event. The thought he might not show made her want to puke.

  ~!~!~

  Alex stood on the modest house’s porch. A light cast a pool of radiance over its wooden deck and drew moths to martyr themselves in its fatal luminescence. Plant baskets hung from hooks screwed into the porch’s roof cladding, each one sporting a lush fern. He reached up to touch one of the fern heads. Silk. Alex smiled. “That’s cheating, Seraphina.”

  He was surprised Phee’s black thumb hadn’t killed off the fake ferns as well. If he ever had the chance to take her to Dubai’s Miracle Gardens, they’d probably be escorted out within the hour by enraged caretakers and anguished gardeners.

  His smile faded. Half a decade earlier, he’d take the coward’s way out and ran halfway across the world to not only escape the anguish of watching the woman he loved marry his brother but also the temptation to betray him with her.

  They stood in her apartment’s tiny foyer, the air between them thick with tension. Phee’s fair skin was pink from spending most of the day in his parent’s backyard for their July 4th party. She smelled of sunlight and sunscreen.

  “Thanks for the ride, Alex. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t mind.” Who was he kidding? He’d jumped at the chance to take her home. “Phillip was too drunk to stand, much less drive. Mom will let him sleep it off on the couch and send him back to his place tomorrow.”

  Alex wanted to punch his brother—not because he’d swilled too many beers and margaritas at the party, but because he’d virtually ignored Phee the entire time they were there. His parents had noticed as well.

  Lacey had come to Alex. “Do you know what’s going on with those two?”

  He’d shrugged, as puzzled as she by Phillip’s behavior. Phee’s had been just as strange. She’d acted as if she didn’t care and was all smiles and laughter as she socialized with the other Kingmakers and their guests.

  With Alex, she’d returned to that nervous energy she’d displayed when they first met, complete with random trivia facts thrown out and a look in her eyes that set his heart racing every time their gazes met.

  It was the strangest party he’d ever attended.

  “Alex, what if Phillip gets sick? Your mom loves that couch.” Even Phee knew of Lacey’s obsession for the high-end sofa her husband had bought her as a birthday present.

  He shrugged. “She’ll probably smother him with one of the cushions, and I’ll have to help Dad bury him in the backyard. I’ll be limping for days afterward.”

  They both laughed, and Alex wondered if his brother liked Phee’s smile as much as he did.

  “Your smile makes me forget the pain, Seraphina.” Alex couldn’t help himself. Her skin was smooth under his fingers where he caressed her arm.

  He drew back, an apology hovering on his lips. The floor dropped from under his feet when she leaned toward him, her dark eyes somnolent and filled with the one thing he thought never to see—desire for him. And something more.

  “Yours makes me forget everything, Alex.”

  He was lost.

  A lone car raced by, and a horn blared, snapping Alex out of his reverie. “Shit!” He ran his hands through his loose hair, sorry he’d pulled out the elastic band and left it in the car with his cravat and coat. In the distance a dog barked.

  He had a decision to make. He could return to Dubai and a lonely existence or stay in the States with the woman he’d loved for almost a decade. His employer was international, and Alex could take his pick of any of its world-wide offices as his base. There was nothing stopping him from returning home except the memory of old guilt.

  He could no longer loiter on Phee’s porch at one o’clock in the morning without someone calling the cops. He limped to the door, wishing he’d brought the cane instead of discarding it at the hotel, and rang the doorbell. Silence. No sound of footsteps or someone calling “Who is it?”

  Alex scowled. Then again, at this time of the night, Phee better not be in the habit of yelling out “Who is it?” to anyone on the other side of the door.

  “I’ll be awake as long as I need to be.”

  Just how long was that?

  He heard quick steps at last and moved to the right so she could see him through the glass sidelight. Locks clicked and latches slid until the door creaked open. The scents of sugar and vanilla drifted from the house and onto the porch. Phee greeted him with a nod and a gaze brimming with cautious joy.

  In her port wine dress and velvet choker, she’d bee
n a portrait of sensual grace. His first sight of her had rendered him tongue-tied. Now, dressed in a faded yellow t-shirt, short denim cut-offs and her long hair falling black and free over her shoulders, she knocked the wind out of him.

  He’d imagined ten thousand variations of this scenario in his mind while she dated Phillip and when he lived in Dubai, alone and aching for her. The imaginary moments paled compared to the real thing. This was what he wanted, what he’d always wanted but had been too terrified—too guilt-ridden—to capture.

  Phee’s eyes darkened even more as Alex ran his tongue across lips gone dry as sandpaper. “Phillip said I was the dumbest prick he’d ever met, and you were an idiot to love me. But he wished us both luck.”

  Phee burst out laughing and pulled him across the threshold. He scooped her into his arms and kicked the door shut behind him. This kiss was neither slow nor languid but burned hot enough to scorch the living room rug and paint the walls with soot.

  When they paused to breathe, Alex muttered one word. “Bedroom?” Phee pointed down a short hallway toward the back of the house. “Christ, that’s a long way.” He backed her against the foyer wall, muscles quivering as he held her close, expression grim. “I should never have left, Seraphina.”

  Phee hooked an ankle around his calf to pull him even closer to her. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. Welcome home, Alex.”

  *!*!*!*

  END

  ###

  Thank you very much for reading this story. If you’d like to try any of my other work, you can find it under the name Grace Draven under which I write fantasy romance.

  Best,

  Annabeth