Alex shuffled back into their radius. She needed to defuse this before Roger said something unfortunate, and Marc found out the truth before she was ready. “Marc, I can handle this.”
“It’s already handled. Go on inside. This guy’s leaving.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. He just told her to go inside. Like she was his to order around. Who died and made him emperor of her soul? “Excuse me? I can handle this myself.”
Marc glared at her, and for a second she imagined that she saw the realization that he’d overstepped. “He’s leaving, anyway.” Marc turned back to Roger. “Aren’t you?”
“Alex, I’ll speak with you later.” Roger stormed away.
Marc turned around. That awareness she’d seen earlier was definitely there now. “He knows you.”
“If you’d given me a second before swooping in like an avenging angel, I could have told you that.”
“He looked like he was getting handsy with you.”
If he only knew. Then again, if he did know, it would all be up in smoke. A man who valued honesty in relationships was never going to want to be with some other man’s other woman. Alex folded her arms. “I had it under control.”
“Hey, kids.” Ida broke in. “You know I called Junie Keyes, and she’d love to get in a few extra hours, so she’s going to come in and cover the rest of your shift, Alex. Why don’t you just head home?”
Home. She’d been planning on heading up the mountain with Marc for the afternoon and evening. A temporary liaison. She’d been crashing at Angela and Finn’s for the summer, not really home. Her dorm room at school was only home for the duration of her college career. When she left for school, her mother had made over her old bedroom as a scrapbooking room and when Alex visited they opened up the sleeper chair for her. She had no home.
She should have stuck with her burqa and celibacy plan.
“Fine.” Alex bashed into the kitchen through the out door. Paul didn’t make a peep about it. She tossed her apron in the hamper and grabbed her purse out of her locker. “You tell whoever takes over my section that I get the tips.”
“You know Marc didn’t mean any harm,” Paul said.
“I don’t care what Marc meant. It was none of his goddamn business.” And if he found out the truth, he was going to hate her. That would hurt more than anything.
“Alex,” Marc said through the screen. “Come on. Let’s go home so we can talk.”
“I planned on going home, but not with you.” She shoved out through the in door, nearly smacking him in the face with it.
Marc caught her arm as she passed him. “Alex, please. Everyone is staring.”
“Aren’t you doing exactly what you just kicked someone out of the restaurant for doing? It’s not even your restaurant.”
Marc looked at where his long fingers wrapped around her forearm before he released her. “Fair enough, but I still want to talk to you.”
“So did he, before you threatened to beat him up.”
“I never threatened him. I told him to leave you alone, and I have twenty witnesses to attest to it.”
“My God, you’re self-centered.”
Marc squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “What? Where did that even come from?”
“How can you be worried about having witnesses now?”
“Because people sue celebrities all the time. Can we please just have a private conversation?” He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in so she could hear his lowered voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I butted in. I was concerned about you. That guy looked like he wanted to hurt you. Surely, you can see that.”
Roger? Hurt her? Yes, but not physically.
Marc chewed the inside of his cheek. She’d missed her part of their joke, and it bugged him. That had to mean something. “I was trying to protect you. I love you, and I didn’t want to see you hurt. Now, can we please finish this conversation someplace where we don’t have an audience?”
Alex scanned the seating area. Plenty of diners were tuned in to the drama as they ate. If she went back to Angela and Finn’s, she wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen if Marc ever found out about her adulteress status, and she could focus all her energy on worrying about what Roger was going to do next. But that wasn’t much in the spirit of “The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock.”
Wait. “What did you say?”
“I want to finish this conversation away from the spotlight.”
“Before that.”
“I didn’t want to see you hurt. The way he had your arm, I thought he was going to twist it off.” Marc frowned, his eyes darting to the sides as if he could see the diners watching them through the back of his head.
“No, before that.”
He straightened and heaved a sigh. “Alex, please can we go someplace private?”
“I swear you said you loved me.”
“I did,” he said through his teeth.
“But you won’t say it again now, so how do I know you meant it?” If he loved her, that changed things. He might even be willing to forgive her tawdry past.
“You are killing me here, Alex.”
“Why can’t you just say it?”
Marc turned his head to meet the astonished gaze of the woman at the table next to them.
“Tell her,” the woman said.
“Oh, God,” Marc groaned. “This is going to be all over the Internet.”
“I’m recording it,” a woman at the table next to the drink station said. She had her phone in her hand. “I recorded it the first time, too.”
“Oh, good,” her dinner companion said. “I’m going to want to watch that over and over. This is history.”
These people were far too fascinated with what should be a personal moment. So he was a musician. His love life should have no impact on his ability to play guitar. On the other hand, if he said it now, in front of all these people, he must mean it, right? People, total strangers were recording it for posterity. Roger wouldn’t look her in the eye in class. He hadn’t wanted anyone to get an inkling of what was going on behind his closed office door. Some people in the English department believed he disliked her because of the way he acted toward her in public. If Marc went on the Internet on video saying that he loved her, then everyone would know.
Yeah, she was going to be one of those women who made their man prove he loved her.
“Alex, I love you.”
The seven tables closest to them broke into applause.
“Can we please finish this in private?” He held out his hand.
Alex blinked back tears. He loved her, publicly and on video. She slid her hand into his and let him pull her out so their audience could see them. He took a deep bow, creating more applause, before escorting her to his car.
“You love me?” she asked as he held the door open for her.
“Yes.” He kissed her nose. “Get in the car.”
“Surely, you don’t mean it.”
“Don’t call me Shirley.”
* * * *
Alex closed her eyes as the door clicked closed behind them. He had said he loved her and there was no reason for him to lie. She put her hands on his cheeks. They were rough with stubble and so warm and real. “You love me?”
He leaned in to kiss her. She closed her eyes when his warm lips touched hers. Every moment she spent with him, he made her feel like the center of the universe. The desperate longing to be with him every second nearly destroyed her. What was she going to do when he left her? He would. He’d find out and move on. There had to be something she could do to keep that from happening.
Alex pulled her shirt off. “I want you.”
“You know you don’t have to put out every time I look at you.”
She shimmied out of her jeans and stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace. “Even if I want to?”
“Bad girl.”
Her breath hitched. No, he meant that as a compl
iment. “But only in the right places.”
He crawled over her. The scent of his heated skin made her crazy. Would he notice if she stole one of his shirts so she could have it forever? The scent coming from him and the smell of him on her flesh. It was delicious. Her skin pinched and puckered at the thought. He trailed kisses down her neck and between her breasts. “I want to wrap you up and take you home.”
“I didn’t know I was on the menu.”
“You were on mine.” He traced one of her nipples with the tip of his tongue.
She gasped, arching.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he murmured, his breath brushing over her skin.
Writhing, she moaned, trying to release some of the tension building inside her. “That feels so good. I wish I could please you as much as you please me.”
“You do.” He trailed farther down her body.
“The way your mouth feels…” Her words were lost in a pleasured sigh as he kissed the crease at the top of her thigh. “Oh, Marc.” Alex dug her fingers into the carpet, helpless as his confident hands spread her legs. Her muscles shivered like over tightened strings. His fingers ran up the back of her thigh to her knee. His fingers stayed there, nestled in the crook behind her knee. When she opened her eyes, he was sitting between her legs, studying her. Articulating a thought took too much effort. Instead, she reached for him.
Smiling, he stretched out on top of her, angling his leg under her thigh to spread her wider. She clenched her teeth, burying her hands in his hair as he kissed her. The rough material of his shirt rubbed her tender nipples until she shuddered. Nothing was like this. Nothing had ever been like this. She wrapped her legs around his lean hips, desperate to be connected to him. “Please, please,” she whispered.
He started riding against her. Through his jeans, she could feel his cock straining. “This works better without pants,” he gasped.
She laughed breathlessly.
He got back up on his knees and pulled off his shirt before reaching for his jeans. “I had planned to tease you a little more. I underestimated you.” He pushed down his jeans and fell on her, thrusting.
Alex held her breath to keep from crying out when he buried himself inside her. She was lost to the endless rhythm of their bodies working together. Half smothering herself, she held back her own delighted cries. She could only hold on, letting him take her wherever he wanted until he found her shattering point. He shuddered and groaned a moment later. Afterward, he rolled onto his side, cuddling her close.
He was here, and he had said he loved her. Unfortunately, the second he found out about Roger, she was out. Losing Marc was the price of that horrible error in judgment. If there was just some way to explain it to him so he wouldn’t hate her. Right now, the only option she could come up with was to walk away at the end of the summer and leave a note, confessing what a mistake she’d made getting involved with Roger. “It’s been a really long day.”
“Go to sleep, my darling.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re right where you belong again.”
“Where’s that?”
“In my arms.”
* * * *
Marc woke up with a shaft of sunlight boring through his eyelids. Alex was curled into his side with one hand over her face, shielding her eyes, but she stirred as soon as he moved. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure it’s late afternoon, early evening.”
“Kinda feels like a brand new day to me.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. So much like a brand new day that he wanted to brush, floss, and have a bowl of cereal.
She laughed and sat up. “What a day.”
Marc ran his fingers down her spine making her look at him over her shoulder. “I never want to be without you.”
A slight frown creased her brow for a moment before it was gone. “What?”
He sat up and took her hands. “I never want to be without you.” When he leaned in and kissed her, she didn’t respond. “Alex?”
“I think I missed something.”
“I want you to move in with me. Or me to move in with you. I could get a place near your school until you finish your degree. Or forever if you wanted. I can live about anywhere. Music takes me away from home a lot, so you would have lots of time to work on your studies.”
That frown creased her brow again, lingering this time. “I don’t know.”
“I know this was supposed to be a summer thing, but I’ve never felt this before. When Bear met Maureen, I thought he was being a sucker. I had no idea what it was like to really fall in love.”
“Weren’t you married?”
“I know!” Jeez, Dez. He’d been a complete idiot marrying her. That was a kiddie pool. This was Olympic-pool size. Deep and wide and exactly the right temperature. He couldn’t explain that to her. It sounded stupid in his head. She’d think he’d lost his marbles.
“We just met.”
“Joseph Campbell said marriage is a recognition of spiritual identity. I recognized me in you and you in me the moment I met you.” Something in his chest slid into place. Life with Alex. Home was wherever she was.
“Marriage.” Alex pulled back. She scrambled off the bed. “Why are you talking about marriage?”
“Don’t panic. This is right.” Marc stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. The sun was behind her, giving her a halo, but she was shaking so hard he should have been able to hear the vibration. “Alex, I want to treat you like a precious stone. Let me.”
“Let you?” she whispered. “I’m afraid. What if you fi—fall out of love with me?”
“It won’t happen. You will never have to be alone.”
Alex sucked in a deep breath like a drowning woman who had just been pulled onto the beach. “No matter what?”
“There is nothing that would drive me away from you.”
She pulled back, blinking. “Nothing?”
“Alex, I wish I could explain to you how I feel, but I can’t. There are no words.” He gathered her hands into his. Her delicate, wonderful hands. “I never want to be without you, and I know it’s going to be hard, and I know there’s going to be times when we can’t be together, but I want to spend every second I can of the rest of my life with you.”
She blinked. “Every second?”
“Every second.”
“For the rest of your life?”
“Absolutely.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what you do.”
Sobbing, she sunk into his arms. Not the response he expected, but it worked.
* * * *
“I think you’re nuts,” Marc said, pulling the car into park in front of Angela and Finn’s.
“I might be, but I have the opening shift and I can’t let Ida and Paul down.”
“So put in your notice tomorrow. Tell them you have a full-time job being in love with me.” He pulled her hand to his lips.
Alex shivered. He’d promised and meant it. At least, he meant it now.
But Marc, something about the way he stammered over his words, made it seem too true for speech. It reminded her of the Mathew Arnold poem that said something about love being too weak to unlock the heart and let it speak. “I made a commitment, and I want to keep it.”
“Okay, but I think you’re going to regret every minute you’re not with me.” He drew a deep breath with his eyes fixed on hers. “I know I’m going to regret every minute you’re not with me.”
“No wonder you’re such a successful songwriter.”
He chuckled and released her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early.”
“No. Don’t you dare come in until the end of my shift, or I’ll never get any work done. Ida will kill you.”
“Fine. I’ll be there tomorrow, and we can start planning that big trip to Italy you always dreamed of.”
Italy. Last night when he had suggested delaying he
r master’s for a semester to travel to Italy with him, it had taken all of ten seconds for her to agree. He loved her. Three months traveling through Italy with Marc and away from Roger. The master’s program would be there when she was ready, and by that time, maybe Roger would have gotten himself together so she wouldn’t have to worry about the two of them bumping into one another. The loans would have to be dealt with when the time came. She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek before jumping out of the car. Anymore than that, and she might never get into the house. “Bye.”
“See you tomorrow.”
He waited on the street until she closed the front door behind her. She leaned on it, sighing, listening to the car pull away. Angela and Finn both turned away from tonight’s crime dramedy to look at her.
“Well?” Angela asked.
“He wants me to move in with him. He’s taking me to Italy.”
Finn snorted and turned back to the TV, but Angela jumped up. “Really? Italy? What about school?”
“I’m going to delay it. He said they’re not going into the studio for a while so we can spend the time together. I might even transfer to UCLA to finish up. If I finish at all.”
“If? You’d quit?”
“He mentioned marriage.”
“Marriage!” Angela threw her arms around Alex. “I knew it. I just knew it. You two are perfect for each other.”
“I guess so.” Alex pulled away and rubbed her face. “I have to clean up and get to bed. I open in the morning. Good night.”
After a quick shower, she opened her e-mail. The first one was from the university congratulating her on finishing her master’s thesis, and if she had any questions “do not reply to this e-mail address, but contact your advisor.” Master’s thesis, she hadn’t… The time on the e-mail said it had arrived about an hour and a half after she and Marc had left the diner. She opened her sent e-mail. About the time Marc was declaring his undying devotion, she had snuck home and submitted a master’s thesis and had been back in time to sink sobbing into Marc’s arms.
Roger. That bastard.
Yanking on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she ran out to the living room where Angela and Finn were still planted in front of the television. “I need to borrow your car.”
Waiting for a Girl Like You Page 10