Save Me

by Margaret Watson

Her back ached as she climbed out of her car and slammed the door, and she rolled her shoulders to ease the strain. She'd been working way too much lately, hunched over her computer in her office, but she was glad to have the distraction.

  Happy to get home late, too tired to do anything but eat dinner and fall into bed.

  Too tired to dream.

  Her yard was quiet, the grass encrusted with icy snow. It crunched beneath her boots with that hollow sound the snow made when it was really cold. Her landlord had sprinkled sand on the icy mess, but it was still treacherous. Woozy with exhaustion, she stepped carefully to avoid slipping.

  The wooden staircase to her kitchen door echoed dully in the frigid night air as she walked upstairs. She'd forgotten to turn on her porch light. Again. But she managed to shove her key into the new lock.

  Ryan had told her she needed a better lock on her back door. A week or two after he'd left, she'd purchased a new one. Brendan had insisted on installing it for her.

  Her sister and brother-in-law to-be had done a lot of things for her in the past few months. Pressed her to have dinner with them at least once a week. Cilla called almost every day. Both of them went out of their way to draw her into the Donovan family.

  Livvy had resisted at first. Brooding and sad, she knew she wasn't good company. But Cilla had pushed, and everyone in Brendan's family had been welcoming. Friendly. Genuinely happy to see her.

  She was a regular at their dinners now. When Helen and Jamie came with their newborn twins Liam and Sean and their toddler Charlotte, she played with Charlotte and took turns holding the boys. It made her eyes prickle with unshed tears, but she refused to mope about Ryan and what they might have had. He'd made his choice. She'd get over him.

  Eventually.

  After dumping her Kung Pao Chicken onto a plate and plunking it into the microwave, she kicked off her heels and walked into her living room, flicking on all the lights. Ever since the incident with Dugger at The Winking Judge, she didn't like shadows. She wanted to see every corner of her rooms.

  Heading for her bedroom, she shed her suit and shirt. Two minutes later, the timer on the microwave dinged as she stepped into the kitchen. Her flannel pajamas and tattered old sweatshirt were warm and comforting after the outside cold.

  She'd eaten two mouthfuls of food when her doorbell rang. Ten o'clock at night.

  It had been a long time since the mess with Bates, but an unexpected visitor late at night still made her stomach clench and her pulse jump. Swallowing a piece of chicken that suddenly felt as big as a tennis ball, she pushed away from the table and hurried into the living room. She eased the blind away from the window and peered at the door. A tall form stood there, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, a red hat covering his head. He shifted from one foot to the other. Either nervous or cold. Maybe both.

  As if the man could feel her watching, he looked up. Held her gaze for a long moment.

  Ryan.

  She clutched the blind tightly, hard enough to bend the thin metal slats. His face looked…thinner. Older. Weary.

  As if maybe he'd suffered from their separation as much as she had.

  She let the blind drop into place. He didn't get to feel that way. He was the one who'd walked away.

  Her heart galloped in her chest and her throat tightened. Did she want to see him?

  Yes. More than anything.

  Was she ready to see him?

  Maybe he'd stopped by to tell her that he wanted another chance with her.

  Her chest tightened so much she could barely breathe.

  Or maybe he'd come over to tell her that he was moving on, and she should, too.

  Her finger hovered over the buzzer. Yes or no. Take a chance and know for sure? Or ignore the ringing of the doorbell and avoid more pain?

  When did you turn into such a ninny?

  She pressed the button to unlock the door downstairs, then glanced at her clothes. Sighed. She'd let him up while she was wearing the rattiest stuff she owned.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She'd never been the kind of woman who worried about what a guy thought of her clothes. Tonight, though, it would be hard to feel strong and in charge while she wore the clothes she saved for when she needed comfort.

  She wished she'd left her suit on. Her armor. The thing she hid behind in court.

  Ryan hit the first squeaky stair. Halfway up. He wasn't hurrying. Finally he reached her landing. She imagined she heard him breathing on the other side of the door. Eventually, he knocked. When he did, she took a deep breath and swung the door open.

  They stared at each other for a long moment. He looked…good. His face was thinner, as if he'd lost weight, but he wasn't clenching his jaw. His eyes were a soft gray instead of stormy. He seemed relaxed. More open than she'd ever seen him. Happy, even.

  Her heart stuttered, then began a slow, heavy beat in her chest. He was happy. Was he here to tell her he was moving on? That would be like Ryan. Honorable. Upfront with her.

  Butterflies fluttering in her stomach, a huge ball of anxiety swelling in her chest, she swallowed once and stood aside. "Come in," she said, her voice hoarse. Tight.

  "Livvy," he said, his gaze devouring her. "How are you?"

  "I'm good. You?"

  "Me, too. Good, I mean."

  God! Could they be more terminally trite?

  Rolling her eyes at both of them, she headed for the chair. "Have a seat. What are you doing here? Especially at this time of night."

  By the time he sat on the couch, across from her, she had her game face on. She watched him politely. Waiting.

  Ryan tugged off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. It stood up from the static electricity in her dry apartment, and she curled her fingers into her palms to keep from reaching for him. Smoothing those light brown waves back into place.

  "Livvy, I want to apologize for the way I left things between us." He closed his eyes, regret filling his expression. Finally, elbows on his knees, he blinked twice then studied her for a long moment. His eyes darkened as his gaze drifted over her sweatshirt and plaid flannel pants.

  Heat speared into her every place his gaze touched. Way too conscious of being naked beneath the baggy clothes, she pressed her thighs together.

  She tucked her feet under her legs to keep them from jiggling on the floor. "Nothing to apologize for. You were very clear about what you needed. What you wanted."

  What you didn't want.

  "I doubt that." He held her gaze steadily. "Since the only thing I was clear on was that I was scared as all hell."

  Livvy tilted her head and frowned. "Scared of what? All the bad stuff was over."

  "That was the easy stuff. The hard stuff was still there." He swallowed and ran his hand over his stubbled jaw. The whiskers rasped against his palm, the tiny sound surrounding her. Sending more heat spiking through her body.

  She'd loved rubbing her face against his, relished the burn of his scruff against her skin.

  He sat unmoving. Watching her.

  She swallowed. "What hard stuff?" Taking a deep, steadying breath, she slid her feet out from under her. Leaned closer. "What are you talking about, Ryan?"

  "You." He swallowed, but still didn't look away. She had to give him credit for that. "How I felt about you. What I wanted with you."

  Her heart rolled over. Wanted. Felt. Past tense. "What you wanted with me?" she managed to repeat, despair an icy fist to her chest.

  "Not wanted." He shook his head hard enough that a strand of hair fell across his forehead. "Want. Still. Always."

  The ice began melting, but she jumped to her feet and paced the room behind the couch, unable to look at his face. Afraid of what she'd see. Or wouldn't see. "And what is that?" Her voice wobbled, and she swallowed the greasy fear.

  "I want you," he said, swiveling to face her. "A relationship." He closed his eyes. "No. No more dancing around. I’m committed, Livvy. To you. I want forever with you."

  Forever? Was he saying wha
t she hoped he was saying?

  Trying to get the question out, to ask him what he meant, she couldn't force the words past the huge lump in her throat. Ryan rose from the couch and moved in front of her. She swallowed once, again, but the words were still stuck.

  Ryan watched. Waited for her to speak. When she didn't, desolation, bleak and lonely, appeared in his expression. He closed his eyes, hiding the despair in their gray depths.

  When he opened them again, the despair was twined with understanding. Resignation. "You've moved on. Found someone else. Or just can't forgive me." He shrugged. "I don't blame you. I was a real ass. I should have told you how scared I was. I should have told you all the things I had to fix in myself. Instead, I walked out the door, when I should have asked you to help me deal with all my crap.

  "You told me you loved me." He raised his hand, as if reaching for her, then let it drop. "Do you have any idea how much that meant to me? How much I wanted to say it back to you? Instead, I told you I liked you. Hell, I like my car. I like my apartment. I like the barista at Della's."

  He opened his eyes. Touched her cheek with a trembling hand. "I love you, Olivia Marini. Completely. With all my heart. I'm here to beg you to give me another chance."

  Her heart came to life again with a jolt. "Say it again," she murmured, her chest expanding. "Please."

  "I'm begging you, Livvy. Please forgive me."

  "Not that." She grabbed his hand. "The other."

  He stood straighter. His shoulders relaxed, the tension draining away. A hint of mischief twinkled in his eyes. "I like my car?"

  "Yes, you ass. That." She tried to hold it back, but a smile lit her face. "I've been waiting four months to hear about your deep attachment to your car."

  He tightened his grip on her hand, reached for the other one. He was smiling now, too. "I love you, Livvy. So much. Those three words can't possibly express how much I adore you. Want you. It's going to take years to show you. And I promise I'll do that every single day of every one of those years."

  "I've missed you so much," she whispered. "I thought about you every day. Wondered what you were doing. How you were doing. You're it for me, Ryan. So if you're not completely sure what you want, leave now. Don't break my heart all over again."

  He closed his eyes for a long moment, then drew her into his arms. "I hate that I caused you so much pain. I won't ever forgive myself for that. But I can promise you that I'm done leaving. I'll never walk away from you again."

  He held her gaze for a long moment, and she saw the assurances there. The pledges. He was here. He loved her. He wasn't going anywhere.

  "I got help because of you, Livvy. I'm working to straighten myself out. If not for you, I'd still be floundering." He brushed his hand over her cheek, his touch almost reverent. "You saved me, Livvy. As surely as if you'd stepped in front of a bullet for me, you saved my life."

  Her eyes burning, she curled her arms around his neck. "Sounds like you saved yourself," she said, melting into him. "You got help dealing with your problems."

  "I wouldn't have done it without you. You made me want to be better."

  "And are you? Better?"

  "Still a work in progress. But I want to do the work with you."

  "And I want to be there for you while you do it," she murmured, her fingers tangling in his hair.

  He stared down at her for a long moment, his gaze full of love, his mouth curling into an intimate smile. Then he fumbled in his pocket and brought out a small box.

  She gasped, her fingers covering her mouth. "Ryan?" Her voice wavered.

  "Marry me, Livvy." He got down on one knee. "Please. You're all I want. Now and forever."

  "Yes," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you so much, Ry." She pressed her mouth against his, kissing him with four months worth of pent-up need. Desire.

  He deepened the kiss, drawing her close, and something hard dug into her side. When she flinched, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. "I think we're doing this backwards, Liv." His voice sawed in and out. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. "I'm supposed to put the ring on your finger before we kiss."

  He opened the box and took it out. Light bounced off the diamonds that circled the band, flashing a rainbow on the wall.

  "It's beautiful," she said, staring at the band as he slid it onto her finger.

  "No beginning and no end. Forever." He lifted her hand and kissed the band of diamonds on her finger. "That's what this ring means. I don't know what road our lives will take, but I do know this – we'll face everything together. Side by side. For the rest of our lives."

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Exchanging promises. Vows. Assurances. The heat from his body curled around her, drawing her closer to him.

  She moved restlessly, brushing against his solid chest, desire suddenly thick and heavy between them. She wanted more. Needed more.

  "Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, leaning into him.

  "What? What am I forgetting?" He frowned, and she imagined him wracking his brain, trying to figure out what he hadn't said. What else he needed to say.

  "You ever hear the words 'sealed with a kiss'?" she murmured against his mouth.

  "God, Livvy." His mouth settled on hers, but instead of devouring her, as she wanted him to do, he trailed a string of tiny, sucking kisses across her face. Down her neck. To that spot beneath her ear he'd found the first time they'd made love.

  Finally, when her skin felt two times smaller than her body, when heat poured through her veins and ignited every one of her nerves, she grabbed his ears and pulled his mouth to hers. "Kiss me like you mean it, Ryan," she said, her voice catching in her throat. "Like I've wanted you to kiss me since the night you walked out the door."

  He pressed his mouth to hers, slid his tongue along the seam, and she opened eagerly to him. As their tongues danced, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Started to unbutton his shirt. "I need you, Ryan. So much. Please."

  He cupped her rear in both hands, tracing one finger down the crease of her flannel pants. Exactly where she needed it. "Bedroom," she gasped. "Now. Please."

  "We need to talk, babe," he said. "I want to tell you where I've been. What I've been doing."

  "Not now," she said into his mouth. "Talk later. Kiss now. I want makeup sex. I need to find out if it's as hot as everyone says it is."

  He dived back into the kiss. She was so wrapped up in him, in the joy of touching him again after so long, that she barely felt him moving. Until he set her on her bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  "I really wanted to talk first," he said, dropping his shirt on the floor and unbuttoning his jeans. "But you have a much better idea. You know how much I like to do research." His jeans hit the floor, and he tugged at her flannel pants. Stilled as he dropped them on top of his jeans. "Commando, Livvy? I’m digging this research thing already."

  "No more talking," she said, pulling him down on top of her. "Not for a long, long time."

  Epilogue

  Seven months later

  Ryan tore his gaze from Livvy and stood with the rest of the guests at Brendan and Cilla's wedding. Watched as the stunning bride walked down the aisle between the rows of chairs in the Garfield Park Conservatory. Orange and pink mums, yellow asters and sedum, red sneezeweed and multi-colored dahlias lined both sides of Horticulture Hall. The flowers, in their palette of fall hues, framed the gorgeous mosaics of the Zellij fountain that was the centerpiece of the room.

  Ryan's gaze touched on the magnificent structure briefly, then returned to Cilla. She radiated happiness. Glowed with joy. And the tiny bump beneath her wedding dress made him smile.

  Still, his gaze returned to Livvy as if pulled there by a magnet. Livvy was breathtaking. He'd barely been able to keep his hands to himself on the drive to the conservatory. He was pretty sure she hadn't noticed – she'd been too busy worrying about all the details involved in the wedding.

  Now,
watching her stand straight and tall in front of the fountain, her wavy hair flowing over her shoulders, a bouquet of orange roses and baby's breath clasped in her hands, he ached for her. As if she sensed his gaze, she glanced at him, her mouth softening in a tiny smile.

  He wished this was their wedding. He wanted to be watching Livvy walk up the aisle toward him. As Cilla passed him, the quiet rustle of her wedding gown made him glance at the beautiful dress.

  He didn't care what Livvy wore to their wedding. She could wear a burlap sack and she'd still be gorgeous. Hell, he'd marry her in her pajamas, if that's what she wanted.

  He just wanted to do it soon.

  Cilla's hand fluttered over her abdomen as she handed Livvy her flowers, and Ryan watched with a tiny stab of envy. He wanted that, too. Children with Livvy. Two, maybe three of them, who'd grow up with the other Donovan kids.

  He grinned to himself. Jamie was going to have to expand that new kitchen he'd built for Rose to hold all the Donovan babies he suspected would appear in the next several years.

  Ryan had hesitated the first time Livvy asked him to come to dinner at Rose's house. That was family time. He didn't want to intrude. And, honestly, after the way he'd disappeared on Livvy, he didn't want to face the Donovan's disapproval.

  She'd persuaded him to give it a try, and he was so glad he had. Everyone in the family had welcomed him, even Brendan and Cilla. Livvy's sister and fiancé would've had every right to be cool toward him. No one would have thought it wrong, including Ryan. But they'd told him they'd forgiven him. That they were glad he'd come back to Livvy. Now, seven months later, he felt as if he were part of the Donovan family, too. Even his sister Cammie had come a few times. Their brother Jesse would join them when he got out of rehab.

  That was part of the Donovan magic – they welcomed everyone. Whenever someone new showed up, they handed the newcomer a beverage, brought in another chair, and added a plate to the table.

  Drew them into the family circle.

  Ryan glanced at the beautiful arching glass above them that framed the royal blue night sky. The sweet scent of flowers surrounded them, the earthy aroma of the plants and soil a rich undertone. Garfield Park conservatory was a beautiful place. But he wanted this ceremony to be over. He wanted to reclaim Livvy, curl his arm around her waist, draw her close enough that he could inhale her tangy, citrusy scent.