Anticipation

by Sarah Mayberry

  Houses slipped past, neatly painted, their gardens clipped into orderly geometric shapes. She slowed twice, but the first likely house had a stained-glass front door, the second an ancient, leaning brick fence instead of the timber pickets she remembered. Frowning, she continued to the end of the street, an odd sense of disorientation coming over her as she tried to remember what their house number had been.

  Nothing came to her, and she wondered how she could know the route so well but not remember the house number.

  She did a second slow crawl of the street, but none of the houses matched the image in her mind. There was no house with a birch tree, no roses. At least, not in the configuration fixed so firmly in her memory.

  She rubbed her forehead, perilously close to tears. She didn’t quite understand the impulse that her brought her to Rochester in the middle of the night, but now that she was here, the need to find some evidence that she’d once lived here, that her parents had existed, that they’d been happy and whole in this place, was imperative.

  After a few minutes of racking her brain for more details and coming up empty, she consulted Google maps on her phone, then left the residential part of town and drove toward the outskirts. The street lights were few and far between out here, and sealed roads gave way to gravel as she made her way to the town cemetery.

  The countryside was very quiet when she exited her car, the only sound the ticking of her cooling engine and the faint, far off sound of a dog barking.

  She used the flashlight function on her phone to light the way to the front gate. It was locked, a mint-condition padlock shiny against the rust-pocked wrought iron. The fence itself was only waist-high, however, and it was easy enough to boost herself on the gate’s cross-bar and clamber over the top.

  She had never been here before. It had never seemed important — or maybe something had stopped her from coming. It was hard to know, she was so churned up right now.

  The neat rows of gravestones and tombs were well-maintained, the grass clipped short around them. It took her a few minutes to work out that the older graves were nearest the gate, and she widened her search. Ten minutes later, the cool blue light from her phone illuminated a simple stone marker etched with her parents’ names: Ruth Anne Sullivan and David Terrence Sullivan.

  She scanned their birth and death dates and realized with a small start that she was older now than her mother had been when she died. That struck her as being indescribably sad and she sank onto her knees, the dry grass prickling her through her jeans.

  She had no idea why her headlong flight from the city had brought her back to this town. There was nothing for her here, hadn’t been for a long, long time. There was only this headstone, and the names of two people who had died far too young.

  Pretty cold comfort, if that was she was looking for.

  A tear slid down Blue’s cheek as it hit her that that was what she was looking for — someone to reassure her, to make things better. Someone to put their arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be all right. Someone to make the hollowed-out feeling in her chest go away.

  Which just went to show how stupid she was, because the only people who might have wanted to do that were lying six feet underground, and had been for the past twenty-four years.

  A sob bubbled up in her throat, and she tucked her chin into her chest, trying to get a grip on her emotions, trying to keep the memory of what had happened with Eddie at bay.

  She couldn’t stop his words from echoing in her head, though. Couldn’t stop herself from seeing his face, eyes shiny with unshed tears as he laid his heart at her feet.

  I want to be the one who makes you happy. I want to be the one who holds you when you’re sad. I want to love you, with everything I’ve got, instead of just the parts of me that you’ll allow. I want in, baby. All the way.

  The memory alone was enough to make her stomach churn with anxiety and nausea all over again.

  God, she was so fucked up. Comprehensively and profoundly.

  All her adult life she’d prided herself on how strong she was. She’d worn her toughness like a badge of honor. Secretly, she’d even been a little contemptuous of people with thinner skins, people who let life chew them up and spit them out. She was a survivor. She could take anything anyone threw at her, and then some.

  Except love, it turned out.

  Friendship she could handle. Friendship didn’t demand anything she wasn’t prepared to give. Friendship didn’t require intense intimacy, or high levels of trust or commitment. She could dip in and out of it without risking anything.

  But love… love took a part of your soul. Love meant that a phone ringing in the middle of the night could change your life. Love got its hooks into you and never let go. It made you bleed. It made you weak. It made you hurt.

  Love was loss, pure and simple. It was risk. It meant casting yourself on the universe’s mercy and hoping against hope that you were going to be one of the lucky ones.

  And when love failed, when it was stolen away or broken, it left you with nothing but pain and memories.

  Tears dripped from her nose and chin as she acknowledged something she’d never let herself admit before — losing her parents had almost destroyed her. It had left her defenseless and alone and utterly vulnerable, and there had been no one to step in and make the world right for her.

  She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t give herself over to loving Eddie, couldn’t abandon herself to the dream he represented, knowing what might be waiting in the wings if she wasn’t lucky.

  If things didn't work out.

  Last time, it had nearly broken her, and she simply didn’t have the courage to go through that again.

  Her chest and stomach hurt so much she wrapped her arms around her herself and bowed forward, sobbing her heart out as she acknowledged the ugly truth: she was too scared to risk Eddie’s love. Too much of a chicken. Too frightened and small and scared.

  Too broken.

  It was why she’d been content to love him from afar for so many years, and it was why she’d fought so desperately to control things once he’d become her lover — because deep down inside she’d known she couldn’t handle his love.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After a while her tears slowed and she used her jacket sleeve to wipe her face, blinking in the darkness, trying to get a grip on herself and the rawness of her emotions. Her legs had gone numb, and she shuffled onto her backside, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

  She was going to have to quit Brothers Ink. She hated even thinking it, but she didn’t see what else she could do. She couldn’t work with Eddie every day feeling the way she felt. She didn’t trust herself where he was concerned, and she knew him well enough to know he wasn’t going to simply let things drop after today.

  When Eddie wanted something, he went for it. He used whatever weapons were at his disposal, and he didn’t stop until he’d either won the day or exhausted ever option available to him.

  “Jesus.” She could feel the tears welling as she thought about Eddie waging a campaign for her heart, and she reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose until it hurt.

  The pain helped distract her, but only a little. Realistically, things probably weren’t going to get better until she’d retreated to a safe distance. New York, maybe. At least she’d have Lena there. They could be messed up together, Lena over her mysterious guy and Blue over Eddie.

  What a cheery household they would be.

  She went through the steps she needed to take in her mind — give notice, pack up her apartment, book a ticket to New York. All things being equal, she could probably be gone within four weeks, six at the most.

  It would be hard saying goodbye to Maggie and Raf and the guys at Ink, but it would be impossible saying goodbye to Eddie. He’d been the center of her life for so long, the center of her dreams.

  The shaky, nauseous feeling came back as she tried to imagine life without him
. There were so many things she would miss. The sound of his laughter. The way he described the world with his hands. The wicked, mischievous light that came into his eyes when he was feeling particularly reckless and wild. The way he danced. The way he made love to her. The way he cared for her.

  It was going to be like losing a limb. Like losing half of herself.

  An owl hooted nearby, drawing her out of her thoughts. She became aware that she was cold and stiff, her arms and back sore from sitting in one position too long. Feeling like an old, old lady, she rolled onto her knees and pushed herself to her feet.

  She activated the flashlight function on her phone again and picked her way back to the gate. She started the engine and bumped the heater up to high, waiting until she’d stopped shivering before she put the car into gear and reversed. Gravel pinged under the car as she made her way back to the main road, and then back onto the freeway.

  The clock on the dash said it was nearly ten, and she realized she’d been sitting by her parent’s graveside for a long time. That would explain why she was so freaking stiff and cold, at least.

  She punched the radio on and tried not to think too much as she drove back to Melbourne. She’d made all her decisions. She simply had to follow through on them now.

  It was past midnight by the time she pulled into the parking garage beneath her building. She felt tired and suspected she looked like crap, her eyes red and puffy from too much crying.

  Get used to that look, girlfriend.

  She walked slowly up the stairs, her thoughts gravitating to Eddie now that she was back. She’d turned the ringer off her phone when she’d left town, but she’d half expected to find a message from him when she checked it. He hadn’t called, though, and she told herself that was a good thing.

  Might as well get used to not having him in her life, since it was going to be the reality soon enough.

  It wasn’t until she on the second last step that she registered the man sitting against her apartment door. Eddie rose to his feet as she stepped onto the landing, brushing the seat of his pants. The expression on his face was a perfect mix of hope, trepidation and concern, and her heart squeezed in her chest so painfully that she actually lifted a hand to her sternum.

  It hit her then, with the undeniable force of a freight train — there was no way she could walk away from this man and his love, not while she was still breathing and her heart still pumping. Not while the earth still turned and the sun still shone. She might be terrified of loving him, but standing in front of him, her heart thrashing around her in her chest like a wild thing, she understood that that ship had sailed a long time ago.

  She loved him, so much, with everything she had, and it was suddenly blindingly clear to her that running away wasn’t going to protect her from the hurt she’d feel if she turned her back on that love. He already owned her heart. There was no turning back for her, no running away.

  She took a step forward.

  “Have you been waiting long?” she asked.

  “About ten years, give or take,” Eddie said.

  “Me, too. Funny about that.”

  Her hand was still on her chest and she could feel her heart pounding away like she’d just run the race of a lifetime. In a way, she realized, she had.

  “I can wait,” Eddie said, the words bursting out of him in an endearing rush. “If you need more time, if you want to take things more slowly, I can wait. As long as it takes. Whatever you need.”

  She took another step forward, fear and excitement making her dizzy.

  “I don’t need more time,” she said. “I only need you.”

  She saw comprehension wash over him, saw the relief in his eyes before he closed them briefly, as if he was offering up a silent prayer of thanks. Then she was in his arms, and he was holding her so tightly she couldn’t breathe.

  “Say it again,” he said.

  “I need you.”

  “God, I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Eddie.” The words felt strange on her tongue. Funny, when she’d said them in her heart and mind so many times.

  His hand cupped the back of her head, pressing her close to his chest.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was trying to be patient.”

  “I’m glad you pushed me. I needed to be pushed.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Very sure.”

  She’d had ten years to think about it, after all. Ten years of yearning. Ten years of lust. Ten years of secret, hidden hope.

  And ten years of fear.

  She pulled back a little so she could see his face.

  “You might have to bear with me sometimes. Talk me down. Pick me up.”

  Eddie’s hand cupped her face. His thumb brushed her cheek as he looked into her eyes. He was so goddamned beautiful, and the way he was looking at her, the love and heat and warmth in his eyes…

  “Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll be here,” he said.

  “Does that start now?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then I want to be naked. And I want you inside me. I want your arms around me.”

  His expression became intent, focused. “Consider it done.”

  He kissed her then, the force of his passion tilting her head back. She took everything he had to give and more, her fingers digging into his back and shoulders as she clung to him with everything she had. This man drove her wild. He made her want so many things. He scared her. He inspired her.

  And he was all hers.

  “Take me to bed, Eddie,” she told him.

  Clever man that he was, he didn’t need to be told twice.

  Epilogue

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  “Wow. This is awesome. Thank you so much.” Blue caressed the glossy art book she’d just unwrapped, a goofy, pleased smile on her face as she looked at Renarto and Yuri. “Thank you so much, guys. I freaking love it.”

  She was seated on the couch, a bottle of beer on the coffee table in front of her, surrounded by a colorful sea of discarded gift wrap. Watching from his perch on the arm of the couch, Eddie tried to school his expression into something other than ‘besotted lapdog, a description that had been thrown his way more than once in the past six months by his oh-so-respectful employees.

  It was hard not to look besotted when he was around Blue, though, because he was. Unashamedly so. She was the hottest, smartest, feistiest woman in the room, and he knew exactly how lucky he was that she was his.

  Her mouth still curved into a huge smile, Blue set the book down amongst the pile of other gifts she’d accumulated during the past half hour. Eddie’s fingers curved into his thighs as she ran her hand over the new dressing gown Steffi had given her, the earrings Lena had sent from New York, the selection of gourmet chocolates Corey had given her. Her head was downturned, but he could feel how much this meant to her, how much she was enjoying being the center of attention at the first birthday party she’d had in twenty-four years.

  He slid off the arm of the couch and pushed aside the wrapping paper so he could take the seat beside her.

  “How you doing?” he asked, reaching out to rest a hand on the nape of her neck, because it had been ten minutes since he’d last touched her and he needed his Blue fix.

  “Good. It’s kinda cool being queen for the day,” she said.

  The look she shot him was endearingly sheepish. It didn’t surprise him that she was finding it a challenge to accept everyone’s good wishes and gifts with equanimity. Blue didn’t mind mouthing off when it suited her, but she still had her training-wheels on when it came to being loved and feted.

  “Get used to it, babe.”

  She turned her head, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist. The look she gave him went straight to his groin, it was so filled with heated promise.

  “Don’t get the engine started if you’re not going to follow through,” he said.

  “What makes you think I’m not going to follow through?”
she asked.

  He leaned closer and kissed her. She tasted like beer and sunshine, and he was powerless to stop himself from deepening the contact.

  “For God’s sake. Maggie, go get the garden hose,” Raf said.

  Eddie took his time breaking the kiss. He and Blue had endured plenty of inappropriate displays of public affection when Maggie and Raf first started dating.

  “Sorry, did you say something?” Eddie said, cocking an eyebrow at his brother.

  “Your fly is down,” Raf said dryly.

  “Dude, yours has been down for nearly two years,” Eddie said.

  Blue’s glance went from him to Raf and back again. “This is one of those private jokes, right?”

  “They’re talking in twin code. It’s like Jodie Foster in that movie,” Maggie said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

  “Right. The one where she grew up in the woods and can only talk in twin-speak,” Blue said, nodding as though she and Maggie were having a serious discussion.

  Eddie grinned, loving the way Blue always gave as good as she got. Life with her was never dull, that was for sure.

  “Happy birthday,” Maggie said, handing Blue a colorful gift bag. “If you hate them, we can exchange them for something else. I’ll be heartbroken, of course, and deeply insulted, but don’t let that stop you.”

  “Cash would have been fine,” Blue said, absolutely deadpan.

  “Noted for next time,” Raf said, a fond smile on his face as he watched Blue pull what looked like a shoe-box from the bag.

  “Okay, this is interesting,” Blue said, shooting Maggie an uncertain look.

  Maggie simply waggled her eyebrows mysteriously. “I wonder what it could be?”

  “I know I’m sitting on the edge of my seat,” Eddie said dryly.

  Blue shot him an amused look before lifting the lid, revealing a pair of dark brown motorcycle boots with three buckles down the side. She gave a soundless gasp.