He sat back with his hands clasped behind his head. “Try me.”
The floodgates opened, and Emma couldn’t figure out how to close them again. She told Jared everything—about the time she first met Ryan, and how they’d instantly clashed; about the ghosts, the tension, and her dates with Tag. The only thing she didn’t mention was Ryan’s nightmares.
By the time her confessions ended, Jared looked as if he’d just witnessed a ten-car pile-up. “You have an angry ghost after you?”
Emma laughed. “After all I just told you, that’s what you focus on?” She rose to her feet to check the water.
“Well, come on. That’s kinda eerie.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Finally her tears dried up and a smile returned to her face. Leaning against the counter, she studied her hands. “Thanks for listening and not calling me crazy.”
Jared stood up and kissed her cheek. “I’ll only call you crazy if you let Ryan go without a fight.”
As her ex put the salad in the fridge to chill, she thought about what he’d said. Would she always regret it if she didn’t at least find out how Ryan felt? He was no longer on the job site, so if he laughed in her face, what was the worst that could happen?
Oh, nothing. I’ll just have my heart broken into a thousand pieces. But if he didn’t laugh, if he took her in his arms and swore he’d never let her go, she’d have the one thing she’d been looking for all her life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
EMMA SLEPT very little that night, and it showed in her work the next day. With a growl of annoyance, she tore down the row of bricks she’d been laying, having to start from scratch for the third time.
“The only time I hear you snarl is when I win at chess and you swear I’m cheating.”
Sitting back on her haunches, she checked her Tickety Toc watch and glared up at her brother. “Don’t you have a wife and kids to get home to?”
Frankie sat on the floor beside her. “It’s only one-thirty. Don’t you think I ever work?”
She returned to scraping the mortar from the bricks. “I guess so, since I always seem to have work to do. Someone must be selling these jobs. What brings you by, anyway?”
“I was hoping to see Ryan, but I’m told he’s not on this job site anymore.” He studied her closely. “How are things going here? Any problems?”
Aside from falling in love with the G.C., breaking the heart of the electrician, and having ghosts play games with me, not really. “As far as I know, everything’s going well, why?”
“I just got a call from Kyle. He was asked to bid on a job in Harlem, but the job’s too big for him, so he offered us the lead.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding it to reveal a job summary sheet. “I was just about to head over there.”
Emma studied the address. “Oh, I know where this is. It’s right near that job where we re-pointed that church.” Placing the level over the bricks she’d laid while they were talking, Emma checked to make sure they were straight this time. “So what’s the big deal? Kyle always gives us the big Manhattan jobs.”
“The G.C. is Ryan Atkinson.”
If not for the fact the level was still in her hand, she’d have thought the evil ghost had used it to stab her in the heart. “Ryan has a job in Harlem that needs chimney and fireplace work, and he didn’t ask us to bid on it?”
Frankie nodded. “Of course, he has every right, but I’d like to know why you think he didn’t consider us before I call and ask him myself.”
Blinking repeatedly, Emma prayed her brother didn’t see her eyes well up. She tried to come up with a good reason to give him. But all she could focus on was the pain.
“Emma?”
As she sat there buttering the same brick over and over, Emma grew angry. How dare he! How dare the man kiss her like he never wanted to stop and then pretend she didn’t exist. She was going to see him, make him face the fact he couldn’t treat her like that and then walk away as if she didn’t matter.
Carefully, she laid down the brick and then jumped to her feet. She grabbed the job summary from her brother’s hand and handed him the trowel. “Excuse me, but I have an errand to run.”
Frankie looked at the tool in his hand as if she’d just asked him to perform brain surgery. “What? But what about the fireplace?”
Emma laughed as she searched out her jacket. “It’s been a while since you did any real manual labor, and everyone here knows you’re a damn good mason. You can finish it for me.”
After bidding him farewell, she left with a sense of purpose.
***
Ryan scanned the rooms of the Harlem row house. The narrow hallways, intricate moldings, and wainscoting resembled those in the brownstone in Brooklyn Heights, but something was missing.
It didn’t have Emma.
Though she was almost always covered in dust, she smelled like a spring afternoon in the mountains. It intoxicated him. She intoxicated him. Everything about her, from the way she swayed to the way she held a hammer, fascinated him.
Shaking her from his thoughts, or at least trying to, Ryan reviewed the chimney contractors in his mind. The Harlem house didn’t need the extensive work the Brooklyn brownstone did, but none of the chimney techs gave him warm fuzzies.
Ryan grimaced. Now why did he let that pop into his head? It made him think of Emma, of Nicole, and of what could have been, if not for his cowardice.
He had to get out of there. Maybe go visit Yolanda, who was due any day, or try to talk to Tag again.
He knew he’d made the right decision to distance himself from Emma after he’d talked to Tag earlier that day. Even though Tag had taken his call, the tension had been unbearable.
Part of the conversation kept ringing in his ears until he wanted to scream, just so he couldn’t hear it anymore.
“She has a lot of shit going on in her life right now. She doesn’t need to deal with your problems.”
The venom in Tag’s voice had shocked him. After that, Ryan had been unable follow what was said. His best friend hated him, and it was no one’s fault but his own.
The first kiss he and Emma shared had taken them both by surprise, but the night of the storms… If not for Nicole, he would’ve made love to her right there on the living room floor. He wanted her, needed her, but he couldn’t have her. He needed Tag too. As of right now, Ryan didn’t have him either, but Tag would come around.
He had to.
A creak from the front of the house pulled him out of his thoughts. The place was vacant, and he’d requested all subcontractors to call before they arrived.
Had the ghosts followed him from the brownstone?
Grabbing a broken baluster from the pile of rubbish on the kitchen floor, he headed for the front. A few weeks ago he would’ve run out the back door, calling the cops as he fled. Not anymore. All because of a woman he’d given up.
When he reached the front parlor, however, he wished he’d fled after all.
***
When Ryan entered the room, Emma fought the urge to fling herself into his arms. It had only been two days, but to her heart, it seemed like years.
“I see you found yourself another row house to play with.” Her voice was light, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile.
Tossing aside the broken baluster he held, he dug his hands deep into his back pockets. “Yeah, but it’s an easier renovation.”
“And you figured this job would be too small, so you didn’t bother to ask us to bid on it?”
He lowered his head. “How did you find out?”
“New York may be a big city, but when it comes to fireplace and chimney contracting, it’s a very small world.”
He turned away. “It was never a matter of your work.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” She let out a humorless laugh.
“I felt it was best if we didn’t work together again.”
Emma stepped closer. She didn’t dare reach out to caress him, s
o she let her voice do it. “What are you afraid of, Ryan?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do you want a list?”
The need to touch him overwhelmed her. With a soft brush of fingertips across his cheek, she said, “You don’t have to be afraid. Not with me.”
“Em—”
She put her hands on his chest and brought herself in closer, wanting to feel his breath on her face, to feel his arms wrap around her and pull her close. “I want to be with you. I want to hold you when you cry out in fear at night and make love to you until you cry out with passion in the morning.”
“Please don’t do this.” His eyes pleaded with her, but she cupped her hands behind his head, bringing his lips closer.
Her eyes never left his face, but his seemed to be drawn only to her lips. “I love you, Ryan.”
He drew in a long shaky breath but said nothing.
“I don’t care about your past or if you ever go back to the way things were. I love the man you are now, but I also think I can help you to find the man you once were. Will you let me?”
His hands inched around her waist. Emma wanted so desperately to kiss him, but she held back. It had to come from him, the way it had the night of the storms. The night she’d realized she couldn’t live without him.
“Say yes, Ryan.” Her lips were a mere whisper from his now.
His hands tightened on her waist. His body trembled. “Oh, God…” He guided his hands to the back of her head and eased her closer. His lips hovered over hers for an agonizing second.
Then he jerked away.
Emma froze. No. This can’t be happening. He wanted to be with her, she could feel it. “Why are you doing this?”
He turned his back to her. “Please go.”
“You’re not even going to give us a chance?”
His answer was to lower his head.
Anger replaced disbelief. “Look at me!”
She took his arm and spun him around. Her gaze locked with his, hoping to find some sign of hope.
Ryan shook his head.
He was letting her go. Her head insisted she was being crazy, but her heart told her he loved her. How could it have been so wrong?
Emma backed away. Welcome numbness spread throughout her body.
Swallowing over the lump in her throat, she somehow found the strength to whisper, “At least I tried.”
Then she fled the house.
***
“I’m here. You’re okay.” Mike stood beside Ryan, his hand firmly on his shoulder, propelling him forward.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because I love you. Because it’s time.”
Ryan’s hand shook as he ran fingers through his hair. Breathing had all but stopped, but his heart had no trouble reminding him it still pounded. Why was he doing this? Why was he here? He turned to go, but Mike’s hold tightened.
Ryan had thought when he’d run to Mike’s house after Emma had proclaimed her love for him, that his old friend would be sympathetic, kind, and eager to listen. Never in a million years did he think he’d find himself walking down Church Street toward Liberty in Manhattan—with the World Trade Center looming in the background.
He’d told Mike everything, about Emma, about Tag, and about his feelings. He’d shouted. He’d cried. The next thing he knew, he was in Mike’s car, heading into Manhattan.
Now, as things he hadn’t seen since he’d been trapped up on a rooftop five years ago came into focus, beads of sweat formed on his forehead and upper lip. A crater replaced the majestic towers that once filled the space. They were gone…just like his brother and his old life.
He’d never made it to the annual ceremony. Every year, his sister-in-law, Renee, stood up at the podium and read his brother’s name, while he sat in a dark room, dead inside. Renee had moved on by helping those who suffered the way she had. He’d hidden from life.
He wanted to run. His legs shook from being denied that option.
With Mike’s hand still on his shoulder, Ryan leaned his face against the cold chain-link fence, staring down at the buildings’ huge square footprints.
I miss you so much, Colin.
He’d cried many times over losing his brother, but he’d never been able to say good-bye.
Whenever he’d been bogged down in grief, he’d done everything he could to stop it. But this time, as grief ascended from the deepest part of his soul, he set it free. Ryan rested his hands near his face and laced his fingers through the steel links. Pain shot through his fingers as he tightened his grip. Tears squeezed through tightly closed lids. His shoulders shook from silent sobs, until he was finally able to say those dreaded words out loud.
“Good-bye, Colin.”
He had no idea how much time had passed. Somehow, being where his brother had died and saying good-bye comforted him.
“I think that’s enough,” Mike said, his voice gruff. “Let’s find a place to sit down and have some coffee.”
Ryan stepped back but kept his head low as he wiped away five years’ worth of sorrow. “We haven’t been here that long.”
Mike patted his back. “Baby steps, my friend. Come on.”
A few blocks later, Ryan followed Mike into a small diner.
They sat near the window overlooking the cloudy afternoon. A waitress walked over, her eyes droopy. She offered them a tired smile and coffee before disappearing.
“Do you know why I brought you here?” Mike asked as he added milk to his coffee.
“To get back at me for shunning you and Yolanda all these years?” he said with a half-smile.
Mike chuckled. “Of course not. I brought you here,” he said, looking at him pointedly, “because you were ready.”
Ryan stared out the window, watching people and traffic go by. “I don’t think I am.”
Mike leaned forward, pulling his attention back. “I never would’ve gotten you over the Brooklyn Bridge a few weeks ago. Now, here we are, only a few blocks away from your worst nightmare. And do you know why?”
Ryan stared into his coffee. “Because of Emma.”
“Yes. She somehow managed to help you find the strength you once had.”
“I feel like I can do anything when I’m with her.” Such a strong surge of love came over him, he had to force the air into his lungs.
Mike sat back with a smile. “That’s why you need to stop this foolishness, Ryan. You can’t let her go.”
“No, I can’t do that to Tag.” Ryan sipped his coffee, more to have something to do than to taste it. “I can’t do that to her.”
“Putting Emma aside for a moment, I believe the time has come for me to speak my mind.” Mike sat up straighter.
“Okay.”
“I think you need to see things from a different perspective. Yes, Tag was there for you, but I think he likes it this way.”
“What the hell do you mean?” Ryan glared, angry that Mike would say something like that about Tag.
Mike held his look. “Before our country was attacked, Tag lived in your shadow. You were in the driver’s seat while he went along for the ride. I believe he was a bit jealous of that. Five years ago, you leaned on him and put him in control. He stood by you, but I think a small part of him was happy about it.”
“You’re wrong. He’s told me I needed to get over things and move on.”
“Has he ever pressured you like I just did?”
He sank slightly in his seat. “No, but you just said I wasn’t ready before today.”
“That’s true, but I feel if Tag really wanted to, he could have gotten you to this point much sooner.”
“I can’t and won’t believe that.”
“You told me he knew you had feelings for Emma, yet he asked her out anyway.”
“He gave me fair warning.”
Mike let out a humorless laugh, laying his hands down heavily on the table. “You call that fair warning? He saw a spark in you he hadn’t seen in a long time and was fast to extinguish it.” Mike g
ripped his forearm. “I’m not saying Tag is a bad man, but you need to see he’s not perfect. He’s acting like an immature child, stomping his feet because Emma didn’t love him back, and he’s blaming you for it.”
Ryan tore small pieces off his napkin. “It’s my fault. I kissed her.”
Mike shrugged. “So you kissed her. Did you hold a gun to her head?”
“No.”
“Did you stop her from loving Tag?”
“No, in fact I did everything I could to push them together.” He sat up straighter. Maybe he wasn’t to blame?
“Emma wasn’t going to fall in love with him, whether you were in the picture or not. You just proved to be a convenient scapegoat. Personally, I think Tag found it a hard pill to swallow that she preferred you over him.”
Ryan’s head swam from this new perspective. He pushed his coffee aside, happy that the waitress chose that moment to deliver the check. He waited for her to leave before asking, “So what’s your point, Mike?”
“My point is you’re making a big mistake if you let your soul mate go just to protect your best friend’s ego.”
“But I could lose that friendship.”
“You won’t. Eventually he’s going to realize he’s acting juvenile, and he’ll be pleased you found someone who can finally make you happy.”
Ryan shook his head. “He told me Emma had enough to deal with, without adding me to the mix.”
“Don’t you think it’s up to her to decide that?” Mike rose from the table with the check in his hand.
Ryan watched his friend laugh with the waitress as he paid their bill. What Mike had said made a lot of sense. So what was stopping him? Maybe it wasn’t Tag. Maybe he was just using Tag as an excuse to avoid opening himself up, because in the end, if things didn’t work out, there would only be more hurt.
A human being could only endure so much, and he believed he’d reached his quota long ago.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
AS GUILTY AS it made her feel, Emma was glad when Nicole finally went to bed. She’d grown tired of forcing a smile all night and acting cheerful so her daughter wouldn’t question why she seemed so sad. If she had, Emma might have broken down and told Nicole everything. No six-year-old should have to deal with that. Regardless of how mature she acted.
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