In my Arms Tonight (NYC Singles Book 2)

by Sasha Clinton

  “Oh, no, I can’t cook. I mean, I can, but I don’t. He made it.” She beamed proudly at her husband.

  Alex’s heart did that weird fluttery thing again as affection between them seeped into his consciousness. They looked so in love.

  Kat’s hand slithered over his thigh. Predictably, his cock stirred.

  To distract himself, Alex shook pepper onto his plate. “How many years have you been married, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  He expectantly stared at Kat’s parents.

  “Thirty-five.” Keira popped the numbers on her fingers. “Intimidated yet, Alex? I bet you and Kat wouldn’t last half that long. My sister has dangerous anger issues.”

  “I thought I told you to be nice to him.” Kat arched an eyebrow. “And I thought I told you not to imagine things.”

  “I am being nice and I’m not imagining anything,” Keira replied.

  A chuckle shook Mrs. Cullen’s shoulders. Pairing eating with frequent glances his way, she finally turned to Kat and asked, “Have you met his parents yet?”

  “No.” Kat didn’t volunteer any more information. Alex’s trust in her grew. If she was so tight-lipped about his past with her own mother, she wouldn’t talk about it to anyone else, either, right?

  “Why not?” Mrs. Cullen probed.

  Kat didn’t say anything.

  Alex stopped cutting the steak. “I don’t have parents.”

  “I see.” Mrs. Cullen let it go with those two syllables.

  Conversation continued to be lively around the table. They got to talking about Keira’s pro tennis career. For someone so laid-back, she had some pretty impressive wins. Mr. Cullen went on too long about her scores, showing off like a proud dad, until Mrs. Cullen cut him off and started praising her other daughter to even out things.

  Being in their company wasn’t strenuous or awkward, as he had anticipated. They didn’t treat him like an outsider. Instead, they accepted him into their intimate group and joked around with him like he belonged here.

  He laughed more that evening than he’d laughed in his entire life.

  Later at night, they were in their room and Kat was changing into her nightwear. The dim glow from the lampshade illuminated her pale, smooth legs and her full stomach. Alex drank her in with his gaze, wondering how she could be so perfect.

  Desire growled inside him, but she extinguished it quickly by throwing on an ugly flannel shirt.

  “You’re very quiet.” Kat squeezed her eyes into lines. “Did my family scare you?”

  “Not at all. I’m so happy I don’t know what to say. I’ve not enjoyed myself this much in a long time.” Alex stretched his hands over his head. “You know, when I was sitting around that table, I couldn’t help but wish I was a part of that circle, too. A part of your family.”

  “If that’s a covert proposal, you can stop it now. Because my dad already did it for you.”

  “Really? What did he say?” Alex fixed his elbows on the pillows, curious.

  “‘Kat, honey, you need to marry him.’” Kat imitated her father’s accent. “That’s what he said. He loved you, Alex. And Keira likes you, too. She thinks you make me more tolerable.”

  Laying a kiss on his cheek, Kat trailed to his lips and suckled. The contact turned into a heady, hot kiss lasted for a few second before they parted lips.

  “So are you going to listen to him?” Alex questioned, his hand stroking the underside of her ass.

  “Nobody listens to their parents. And we had this talk already. I don’t want to get married. You don’t want to get married, either.” Wiggling her way under the covers, she inched closer.

  “Yeah, I know.” He brushed her hair back with his fingers. “When I said I wanted to be a part of your family, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant…”

  “That you wish you had a family like mine. I understand.”

  He nodded, eyelids scrolling down.

  Her palm clasped his jaw. “I’m sorry. I can’t promise you a family, but you can come here again if you want. I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again.”

  Sliding his arm under her, Alex made their bodies touch until their scents intermingled. “Thank you.” He gave her a peck on the shoulder.

  She yawned, then spooned by his side. “Good night.”

  “We’re sleeping so soon? No sex?”

  “We’re at my parents’ house,” she hissed.

  “So?”

  “So cuddling is all you’ll get today.” Turning off the bedside lamp, Kat snuggled up to him.

  Alex wasn’t going to complain, because having her skin against his was good enough.

  As he rolled to the side, he remembered something. Fetching the tickets he’d stuffed into his pocket at the last minute, he placed it on Kat’s chest.

  “For you.”

  “What are these?” Kat hastily turned on the light to read what was written on them.

  “Tickets to Paris. Early present for Valentine’s day. I’d like us to go there in February, after the elections are over.”

  She trembled as she read her name on the ticket. “Why Paris?”

  “Keira told me it’s the one place you’ve always wanted to visit.”

  “When did she tell you that?”

  “When you weren’t looking. Say you’ll go with me.”

  He could already picture them in Paris, eating macaroons, walking hand in hand along the Seine, viewing art and making love every evening.

  She gulped multiple times. “Alex…”

  Capturing her tense fists, he pleaded, “Say yes.”

  “I’ll go if you still want to take me after November.”

  “I’ll still want to take you after November, no matter how busy I become. Trust me.” His attraction for Kat wasn’t going to fade. It wasn’t even attraction anymore. It was love.

  She’d seeped into him without his permission. She’d taken over his mind, his heart, his emotions. She’d let him experience being loved, being accepted, being in a family. She’d helped him heal his past and feel for the first time that he was worthy of love.

  “I love you, baby,” Alex whispered, not feeling as vulnerable as he’d expected. He was laying out his heart for her, yet it didn’t feel like a big deal. It felt easy.

  “I love you, too, Alex.” Moonlight circled her pupils, falling in from the window they’d forgotten to draw the blinds over. One look at her and he could tell her feelings were as strong, as deep, as real as his.

  Burying his face in her, Alex listened to her heartbeat and before he knew it, he was asleep.

  Kat woke up in the middle of the night, stomach growling. Midnight hunger pangs had been part of her nightly routine since middle school, but she’d conquered the habit five years ago.

  Now, it was back. And she knew why. The whole Paris thing was making her anxious. Like a carrot stick dangling before her eyes, the thought of it was so seductive, yet impossible. She couldn’t hold the article until November.

  Kicking off the sheets, Kat touched Alex’s forehead, smoothing the creases on it. He looked spent, but he slept soundlessly, body rising and sinking gently under the covers. Something inside her hummed and she covered his forehead with her lips. She loved every bit, every inch of this man so much that it was scary.

  Messing up her hair in frustration, she made a trip to the refrigerator to satisfy her craving stomach.

  The lights in the kitchen were off. She turned them on, scrunching her eyes into a thin line. When her vision adjusted she spotted someone.

  Tiptoeing in cautiously, Kat stumbled upon her mother, who, with one chubby arm on the small table at the center of the kitchen, was peeling a banana. Chewing slowly, she was humming a tune to herself—something old and sad.

  “Mom, what are you doing up at this hour?” Kat whispered, bare feet flopping on the linoleum as she moved across the kitchen to the pantry to look for cookies.

  “Just thinking. And eating.” It had been ages since Kat had seen her mother in PJs. Gra
y hair, thin and wispy, was cut into layers that swept over elfish ears and a double chin. Her blue eyes, like always, pinpointed Kat’s location correctly. She’d become really good at sensing sounds ever since she’d lost her sight.

  “Dad’s asleep?” Kat asked.

  “Everybody is asleep except the two of us.” A large chunk of banana went inside her mother’s mouth. “Sweetie, come and sit with me after you get your cookie. It’s in the jar in the left cabinet.”

  Kat blushed. “How do you know I eat cookies at night? I’ve never told anyone.”

  “I’m your mother. I know everything. When you were in school, I was the one who slipped cookies into your desk drawer every night.” Her throat bobbed when the large bit of banana slid down to her stomach.

  “You? I thought it was Dad. You were always on my case for eating too much sugar.” Kat swished past the sink.

  “I let you think that because I didn’t want you to think that both your parents were soft.” Her mom didn’t look offended. “By the way, you take after me. I’ve always been a midnight eater.”

  “I don’t think midnight snacking is a genetic trait.” Kat hauled the cookie jar from the shelf onto the kitchen table and joined her mom. Plucking a single cookie, Kat reveled in its crunchy, comforting perfection. “Mmmm. Your cookies are still the best. I miss them.”

  Aiming the banana peel at the dustbin, her mom made a perfect shot. “How do you know I was the one who baked them and not your dad? After all, I don’t bake much these days.”

  “I’m your daughter. I can tell.” Kat licked the crumbs off her fingers. Delicious.

  Her mother’s smile broadened. “You can.”

  “So did you do it with Dad supervising you?”

  “No, Keira helped me. I need to give your dad a break sometimes. He’s been doing everything around the house since I lost my eyesight. He can’t even go out of the house for more than half a day without worrying.” There was a bitterness, a suppressed anger that Kat detected.

  “Don’t say that. You know Dad doesn’t think of you as a burden. He loves you.” Kat’s throat pricked with pain. She was not a child anymore, but seeing her mother upset automatically upset her.

  “And I love him, which is why I hate seeing him unable to go out to games with his friends and take fishing trips upstate. His life’s all about watching TV, cooking, cleaning and looking after me these days.” Some more of the anger showed up, but now Kat recognized that it was not anger. It was helplessness, powerlessness and regret.

  “Mom, you can’t blame yourself for being blind. The doctor told you that having a negative attitude will only make it harder to deal with your condition.”

  “I’m not blaming myself. I’m only stating facts.” Her mother’s hand slunk into the cookie jar. “I need one.”

  Kat stroked her mom’s papery skin. “You’ll be okay.”

  “No, I won’t. I can’t see your boyfriend’s face, Kat. I can’t see how you look at him. I can’t see how he looks at you.” The floodgates opened and the tsunami of repressed feelings gushed out. “I can’t see how Keira is growing up. I can’t see when your father is sad, or when he’s upset. I didn’t think being blind would deprive me of being a part of my family, but it has. I feel like an outsider, not knowing what’s happening to the people around me.”

  “Mom…” Without thinking, Kat circled her mother’s body with her arms, nudging her close until their chests overlapped. This was a deeply emotional moment and she could feel the pain like it was hers.

  After spending most of her life being a high-flying, independent career woman—a hot-shot attorney at one of NYC’s top legal firms—her mother was no doubt finding being so dependent, powerless and inefficient difficult. Kat would have felt the same if she’d ended up losing her eyesight and having to resign herself to a life that was a far cry from her current exciting one.

  “Mom, weren’t you the one who used to say that being a family means that we’re always together? Believe in your own words.” Kat had no conviction in what she was saying.

  A chin moved against her bosom. “You’re right. It isn’t like me to be so overemotional.” Extracting herself from Kat’s grasp, her mother inhaled. “Let’s talk about something else. Alex, for instance.”

  “Are you going to tell me to hold onto him like Dad or start shortlisting wedding dresses for me online, like Keira?” Kat raised an eyebrow.

  There was a soft snicker. “Not at all.”

  “But you want to say something, don’t you? What do you think of Alex?” Kat pressed on, mostly because she wanted her mother’s opinion.

  Her dad always supported her and her sister had pretty much no idea what she was saying ninety-nine percent of the time. Only her mother, with a former defense attorney’s objectivity and critical abilities, could be counted on to give a proper opinion. “He doesn’t seem bad. He’s articulate, ambitious, interested in politics, and very sweet. He has all the qualities you look for in a man. But I’m not sure he knows you.”

  “Nobody knows me. You don’t know many things about me, either. If relationships worked based on how much we knew someone, there would be no working relationships.”

  Her mother’s laugh echoed a little too sharply against the yellow walls of the kitchen. “You sound like my boss at Laurel & Jefferson.”

  “Klauss? You used to hate him.” Kat remembered her mother unloading that on her father a lot when she’d been younger.

  “I hated him because he was always right. I hated being wrong all the time.” The giggles faded into a rueful smile. “But…”

  “Is Alex’s age bothering you? Do you think the age difference between us is too much?” She wanted to get to the root of her mother’s unease.

  “Not really. I always knew you’d marry someone older.”

  “Are you worried because he doesn’t have parents?”

  “It’s not his fault that he doesn’t have parents.”

  “So what is it?” Kat wanted to put the cookie jar back before she was tempted to sneak another one, but the conversation was at the point where she couldn’t get up and leave. “His job too unstable?”

  “I would definitely not have picked a politician to marry, but you’re not me and I’m hardly surprised at the choice. It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. He seems okay, but… I feel I don’t know everything about him. Are you hiding something about him?”

  “A lot of things,” Kat admitted.

  Being unable to lie was her greatest weakness.

  Her mother shifted on the bar stool uneasily. “Any of them serious?”

  Curving one leg over the other, Kat held up the last bit of cookie up. “Define serious.”

  “Criminal activities, history of abuse, cheating, addiction, debt.” The woman had definitely been a lawyer and you could tell.

  Kat stayed silent. What could she say without it sounding too revealing?

  “Is it one of those things or all of those things?” her mother prodded, seconds later, wary.

  “Some of those things.”

  An angry sigh sliced through the quietness. “Why? Why’re you with a man like that? You’re not stupid, honey.”

  “Mom, I can make my own decisions.” There was a bite in those words. She didn’t like being judged, especially for her romantic choices.

  Raising both arms, her mother surrendered. “Yes you can, but for goodness’ sake, make intelligent choices. I don’t want you becoming a victim of… something.”

  “He’s not abusive,” Kat clarified. While she didn’t want to reveal too much about Alex’s past, she also didn’t want her mom to carry around a false image of him.

  “Is that supposed to reassure me?”

  “Just let it go.” Rising, Kat returned the cookie jar to its rightful place. Sometimes, silence was the best answer.

  But she couldn’t leave, not when her mom was sitting in the kitchen shooting ice from her eyes and telegraphing in mom-speak that this conversation wasn’t over. You cou
ld never win with mothers unless you agreed with everything they said.

  “Do you want me to help you to your room?” Kat ventured, sheepishly.

  “I can navigate around the house just fine.”

  “I’m going to sleep then. I’ll leave the lights on.” Kat’s feet didn’t budge.

  “It doesn’t matter. Lights or not, I can’t see anything anyway.” The syllables were curt and irascible.

  Kat heaved an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be passive-aggressive, Mom. Sulking is not mature.”

  Her mother’s footsteps clicked on the kitchen floor. “Tell me you’ve thought about Alex carefully. That you are not doing this just because he saved you on the subway and you feel some misguided sense of gratitude.”

  “You know me better than that. Alex might have made a few mistakes in his life, but who hasn’t? I don’t want to judge him by his past. I want to believe in him. In fact, I do.”

  He’d come clean about his past, even when telling her could have cost him his political career. He’d always treated her with utmost respect and sincerity. She could trust him. She definitely could.

  Her mother didn’t look so convinced, though. “You could be with someone better, sweetie. There are hundreds of men in this city. Hundreds of men who’re not dangerous.”

  “There’s no one better for me,” Kat asserted. Nobody could be Alex. She loved him for who he was and that included the parts of him that appeared less than perfect to the world outside.

  “Whatever makes you happy.” Her mother started moving out of the kitchen. Ducking her head, she gave the switch a pat and the lights went out.

  Why did Kat not believe that her mom’s words were genuine?

  They hiked across the obstacle course that was the living room. With it being so dark, Kat bumped into the couch, the vacuum cleaner, the coffee table and Keira’s tennis racquet, which she’d left lying in one corner. She could almost understand her mom’s frustration at being unable to see.

  A soft creak later, the door to her parents’ room opened.

  “Mom, if you want to send Dad on a vacation someday, give me a call. I’ll look after you,” Kat murmured.

  A beat passed, followed by a nod that she could make out against a streak of moonlight.