by Stewart, JM
He stroked his thumbs over her cheeks. “I think we could be good together, Ang.”
A fierce blush slid across her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes. Shy and sweet, yet a soft, subtle heat flared in those big blue eyes that took his breath away. She was so beautiful when she looked at him like that. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her soft body melt against him, but doing so wouldn’t get him anywhere. He needed to take things slowly. One step at a time.
The thought made him want to laugh out loud. The woman made him feel out of control, like he’d lost all track of himself. He wasn’t this impulsive person, jumping into things without thinking through all the angles. He was careful and thorough. His father had taught him that, instilled it in him. If you’re going to do something, slow down, take your time, and do it right.
It made him a damn good attorney.
Angela brought something out in Alex that made him lose all track of anything but his need to be with her.
He forced himself to release her, and took a step back, then jerked his head in the direction of the car. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
When he pulled to a stop in front of her house a half an hour later, the two of them remained silent. They sat that way, neither one moving, tension filling the car around them. There was so much he wanted to say. He longed to somehow convince her how good they could be together. Except he knew he shouldn’t say any of it. He had to give her time to make her own decisions, without pressure from him. But neither could he make himself turn and tell her goodbye. He had no desire to leave, didn’t want his time with her, however small, to end.
Doing so meant going back home, where there was nothing but the empty sound of the house around him and the life outside of it that everybody else but him seemed to be living. He’d rather stay here, with her.
Finally, she turned to him. Her mouth curved into a soft but nervous smile. “Brock and Mel are having a barbeque at their place tomorrow night. It’s Katie’s birthday.”
He nodded. “She’s turning six. Brock mentioned it.”
“Will you be there?” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and bit down as she folded her hands together in front of her.
That she asked meant she wanted him there. She offered an olive branch. One he couldn’t resist.
Alex nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Relief visibly washed over her features. “’Night, Alex.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ang.”
Chapter Eleven
Angela stood in Brock and Mel’s kitchen the following evening. She was putting the finishing touches on Katie’s birthday cake. The birthday girl had requested vanilla with pink strawberry icing, and Angela had added roses along with inch tall ballerina dolls.
Outside the window, the rest of the family sat on the deck. Brock manned the grill, of course. Mom had made her famous potato salad. The kids had the water guns out, as usual. It was a warm day, the sun was high in the sky. Everybody seemed to be in a good mood.
Angela glanced down at the cake and sighed. She ought to be out there with them, but she attempted to keep herself busy. Alex had yet to arrive. She found herself wound up like a top. She didn’t know how to feel, or how to react. Her entire body buzzed with barely contained excitement, yet her stomach twisted with nerves.
The image of him as he’d looked yesterday morning kept tormenting her. She couldn’t stop seeing him, the way he’d stood in the parking lot of the doctor’s office, the sun glimmering off his dark hair, his arms held open like a silent invitation for her to step into them. He’d looked every bit as scared as she’d felt.
His proposal yesterday had come as a surprise. It had flat out terrified her. Her first instinct had been to run and not look back. He was sweet to offer, but standing in the doctor’s office, she’d been sure he’d only offered because he’d thought it the right thing to do.
She’d done the marriage thing once and failed. She and David had seemingly started off “the right way”. Or so she’d thought. What chance did she and Alex have when all there was between them were two children they hadn’t planned on having in the first place and great sex? They couldn’t pin a marriage around mutual attraction. The attraction would eventually wear itself out. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.
So she’d told Alex no, positive he offered for all the wrong reasons.
Then he’d come to her in the parking lot. No man had ever offered himself up to her like that. He was broken, and he knew it, but he gave her all of himself anyway, broken bits included. She’d been tempted beyond belief to fall into those open arms and take that chance, because she liked how she felt when she was with him—comfortable and safe. She could be herself with him, wounds, fears, and all. He seemed to take it in stride. She yearned to give him the same in return.
Angela piped the last rosette onto the edge of the cake and sighed. The real question was, was she ready?
The doorbell sounded through the house, but before Angela had time to set the pastry bag onto the counter, a streak of pink and the sound of little feet thumping the floor darted past her.
“I’ll get it!” The birthday girl herself, six-year-old Katie, disappeared around the corner into the next room. A moment later, she let out a squeal of excitement. “Uncle Alex!”
Angela froze. Her hands began to shake. Oh God he was here.
“Hey, sport. How’s the birthday girl?”
The butterflies in Angela’s stomach took flight. Setting the pastry bag on the counter, she fought the sudden desire to run and hide. What in the world did she say to him? Did she even know how to act around him anymore?
Like a moth to the flame, though, she moved to the entryway that led into the front room. She found the two of them by the front door. Alex stood just inside the house, Katie already in his arms, her back to Angela.
The sight of them hit her hard enough to make her sit up and take notice. She found herself transfixed, unable to stop watching the scene unfold before her. This was a side of Alex she’d never seen before. Katie obviously adored him. The way he looked at the small child told Angela the feeling was mutual. It filled her with warmth and hope. She held her breath as she watched them, waiting to see how he’d react to Katie.
“Is that for me?” Katie twisted in his arms and pointed at the tiny present Alex held in one hand, a wide smile on her face. No bigger than a ring box, it was wrapped in pink paper, Katie’s favorite color, of course—because “ballerina’s wore pink tutus”—and topped with a single white bow.
Shifting Katie into one arm, Alex clutched the gift to his chest like a cherished item he hadn’t yet decided to relinquish. “Maybe….”
Katie bounced in his arms, making her blond pigtails wave wildly around her head. “Is so, is so!”
Alex chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through Angela’s tummy. He handed the present into Katie’s eager hands.
Katie glanced down at the gift then up at her uncle. “Can I open it?”
Alex frowned and shook his head. “We should probably go ask your mom first.”
Katie let out a dejected sigh. Opening presents wasn’t until after dinner. Mel liked to get every moment on film.
“Okay. Can I have a piggy back ride?” Katie clasped her hands together and begged, “Pretty please with sugar on top?”
Angela swallowed the giggle that rose within her. She knew that tone. Moreover, she didn’t need to see her niece’s face to know that she was likely giving Alex “the eyes.” Cute as a bug’s nose, and Brock and Mel’s only girl so far, Katie was the light in her father’s eye. The little con artist had learned to get her way by offering her father a smile so sweet that Brock usually had trouble telling her no.
Alex set Katie on her feet, then turned and squatted down in front of her. “All right. Hop on.”
Katie clapped her hands in glee, then took a flying leap onto his back, nearly knocking Alex over in the process. He managed to catch himself by bracing
a hand against the door as Katie latched her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“You on?” He glanced over his shoulder.
She bounced on his back. “Giddy up!”
When Alex actually whinnied like a horse as he rose to his feet, Angela had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle that wanted to burst from her lips. She’d seen Alex and her brother playing a lot of things over the years, but she was pretty sure pony wasn’t one of them.
Reaching his hands back to hold the child securely by her bum, Alex gave his body a fierce shake, as if trying to throw off his rider, and took off at a gallop through the living room.
Angela moved back to give them space as he came galloping into the kitchen. Katie bounced and giggled on his back. Two steps into the room, Alex spotted Angela and came to an abrupt halt.
One corner of his mouth quirked up, a light flush tingeing his cheeks. “Heh. Hi.”
His hair hung in his eyes. Angela had a sudden yearning to brush it back. Right then, he reminded her so much of the boy he’d been. Memories flooded her mind. How many times had he come running into her mother’s kitchen like that, shouting something or other at Brock?
Except the boy had grown up into a man who made a thousand butterflies take flight in her stomach every time he looked at her.
Angela couldn’t stop the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Hi, yourself.”
“She likes horse back rides.” He shrugged a shoulder, the flush in his cheeks deepening.
“I noticed.” She couldn’t resist teasing him. “You make a good horse, Alex.”
Growing up, they’d teased each other relentlessly. He’d been at her mother’s house so often that he’d become part of the family. She found the old familiar teasing came back easily.
It wasn’t until that lone brow shot up into his hairline, however, that she realized what, exactly, she’d said. Or rather, what she’d implied.
Angela bit her lip, sure her face had gone seven shades of red, because her cheeks suddenly caught fire.
When a grin spread across Alex’s face a moment later, a stone of dread dropped in her stomach. He reminded her of that boy he’d been, who’d enjoyed tormenting her a little too much. Angela jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare say it,” she said, her voice trembling with a sudden case of nervous giggles.
He seemed to disregard her demand, however, for he cocked his head to the side. “Want a ride?”
The way the words rolled off his tongue, his voice low, husky, and suggestive, had a fine, sweet tension spiking in the atmosphere. Desire flared between them, a smoldering ember that burst into flames.
The playful expression drained from his face. Angela struggled to breathe in the suddenly sweltering room, her whole body trembling with the need that wound inside her—an acute yearning to press along his length and seize those lips.
Alex broke the spell a moment later, however, when one corner of his mouth quirked up. He jabbed a finger at her. “Remember, you started that.”
“You gonna give Aunt Angie a ride too, Uncle Alex?” Katie, arms still clamped around Alex’s neck, bounced on his back.
He darted a mischievous glance at Angela. “Oh, I don’t know, sweetheart, she looks awful heavy. I don’t know if I can pick her up…”
For good measure, Angela made to cuff his head, the way she used to growing up. Alex chuckled and ducked out of the way, then jiggled Katie on his back. “Come on, let’s go find your mom.” He resumed his trek through the kitchen, but before moving out the back door, paused and turned to look at her. “Good to see you, Ang.”
Angela’s tummy flip flopped, a riot of emotion washing through her as she followed him out onto the back deck. He squatted down in front of Mel to let Katie off his back. Angela bit her bottom lip, once again caught as she watched him. Not only did he obviously like children, but he appeared to be very good with them. That he was willing to act like a big kid himself said something huge about the kind of man he was.
One she found incredibly attractive. A man with a child was an alluring sight, but one who was actually good with them was downright sexy as sin.
She glanced down and rubbed a hand over her stomach. It told her a lot about what kind of father he’d be. That old familiar dream, the one she’d given up on halfway through her marriage to David, rose like a tide within her. She wanted a family, and Alex offered her one. She’d be a fool to let this opportunity get away from her.
More to the point, shouldn’t she at least give him a chance, instead of simply shutting the door in his face? Shouldn’t she find out what it was between them?
She looked up to find Alex had taken a seat in one of the lawn chairs. He leaned back, relaxed, his hands on the arms. Looking at him, her mind twisted off into another direction. The birthday celebration going on around them reminded her of the first night she’d met him at the club. The back deck was decorated with streamers and balloons. A Happy Birthday! banner strung across the railing. She recalled his friends had ordered him a lap dance that night, because it was supposed to have been his birthday. Standing there, she saw him as he’d been then, sitting in that black lounge chair. His words to her that night echoed through her thoughts.
My birthday’s not for another couple of months.
“When is your birthday, Alex?”
The minute the words left her mouth she wanted to suck them back. When Alex’s gaze snapped to hers, heat blazed up her neck and into her cheeks. The question gave her away, revealed her thoughts as surely as if she’d spoken them out loud. In front of her family, no less. Oh, her, and her big mouth....
To make matters worse, desire and recognition flared in Alex’s eyes, the memory rising between them. A night neither one of them could forget. She remembered only too well him telling her exactly that.
“Two weeks,” he said.
“Got any plans?” she asked, to cover the need that sparked in her belly. Like an ember stoked into a tiny flame. One that if given the right amount of fuel could consume her.
Alex didn’t respond the way she’d anticipated, however. The expression drained from his face, his features going stony. Tension rose tight and prickly in the air around them.
Brock looked up from the grill.
Alex shook his head and rose from his seat, his jaw tight, a stiff set to his shoulders that had unease settling in her stomach. “No.” Then he turned to Brock. “Beer in the fridge?”
Brock nodded. Without so much as a glance in her direction, Alex moved around her, stepping through the sliding glass doors into the darkness of the house.
Angela turned to Brock, fear and confusion pounding in her breast. “I said something wrong.”
Her brother shook his head. “It’s his story. He should be the one to tell you.”
She nodded, then turned to stare at the doorway Alex had just disappeared through. She swallowed hard and followed after him.
****
Alex pulled two brown bottles out of the fridge and closed the door. Turmoil twisted in his stomach as he turned to set the beer on the counter and moved to the drawers in search of an opener. Being there, spending time with Brock’s family, was a double edged sword that had hit him the instant Katie had launched herself into his arms.
He wanted to dive into the festivities, to lose himself in the playful atmosphere, but watching them all hurt like hell. Being here reminded him of all the things he missed, a piece of himself gone forever. How many times had Hailey thrown herself at his legs when he came home from work every night? How many times had they taken a picnic into Central Park?
All thoughts that wanted to rip his chest open. He’d done well at hiding the pain, at ignoring it. Or so he’d thought, until Angela asked the one question he was trying not to think about.
Her innocent query provided a firm reminder of the anniversary he wasn’t looking forward to. She reminded him that as much as he enjoyed her company, as much as he wanted to be with her, he’d
simply been running for the last few weeks from all those things he didn’t want to think about anymore.
All of which made him wonder what the hell he was doing. He’d had way too much time last night to lie in bed pondering his decision. He’d asked Angela to marry him. It surprised him how much he wanted that, how much he wanted to sink his hands into everything she and those babies represented.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, as he’d lain in the semi darkness, watching the moonlight play across the textured ceiling of the hotel room, the old familiar guilt had begun to creep up on him. It left a hollow ache in his chest. The looming anniversary reminded him that a little over seven years ago he’d said vows. Was he only kidding himself to think he was ready to say them again with someone else?
“I said something wrong.”
At the sound of her voice, he looked up to find Angela in the kitchen. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, uncertainty forming a crease between her brows. It didn’t surprise him that she’d followed, but he had no idea what to say to her. Or how.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
Did she have any idea how much he needed her right then? How much he wanted her? He longed to hold her and soothe her obvious worry, to seek the comfort he found in those arms. But he wasn’t sure anymore that he had the right to. Not when he felt like this.
He shook his head. “It’s not you, Ang.”
She stepped further into the room, her steps slow and hesitant, as if she expected him to ask her to leave. “It has something to do with your birthday.”
He nodded, knew in his heart he ought to tell her the truth, to share the story with her, but wondered if he’d even be able to get the words out.
He wondered if he ought to share it at all. Was it fair to lay his burden on her?
Here he was, back to square one, back to where he’d been the night he met her on that stage. Yearning to move forward, but uncertain if he had the right. Uncertain if he even knew how. Still trying to deal with the overwhelming guilt that refused to release his heart.