“Sorry about that,” she whispers as she comes back through the back door once again, almost as if she is worried the sleeping baby can hear her all the way out here and will wake up once more. She hands me another cold one, solidifying my decision to stay longer, grabs the blanket back, and then takes her seat again next to me.
Our eyes both land on the fire in front of us before mine lift to the trees in the back, most of them now without their leaves. Although it is mid-December, the night is abnormally warm in Georgia, but I still catch her out of the corner of my eye pulling her jacket tighter across her middle and snuggling down further in the blanket when a cooler breeze picks up. She leans her head back and smiles as a peace comes about her and she rocks in the chair. Lifting the bottle to my lips, I shamelessly turn my head and watch her in the moonlight.
She’s perfect. No other word could describe her or the way she makes me feel. Fucking Flawless. She possesses every quality I could ever want in a woman. Like magic, she never fails at always giving me a sense of feeling complete when I am around her. Like a piece of me that was always missing is finally fucking found. Something I never, ever, felt with Charlette no matter how much I loved her. And that realization makes me feel guilty, makes me feel more to blame for what happened as I turn my attention back to the woods in front of me.
“What was she like?” I hear Rose whisper, and I don’t know why it shocks me when she asks. Of course she can read my damn thoughts. This woman knows me better than anyone I have yet to meet or be with before. The entire reason why I find myself lost in the memory of my past wondering, realizing, knowing that I am to blame for what happened more than ever before.
I hold my beer up to my lips and pause. Tilting the bottle back, I take two huge swigs off of it before I lower it again to my lap. What was Charlette like? God, that is a question I haven’t had to answer in a longtime.
“If you don’t want to…” I hear Rose say next to me but I shake my head cutting her off. I just need a little more time. Time to not fall apart when I talk about the first of many fucked up things that happened in my life and led me to where I am today.
Sighing, I push back in my seat and frown. “I met Charlette freshman year of college,” I begin, before pausing and needing some time to digest the past now coming back to me at a lightning fast rate. “We had English Literature together. God, I noticed her the second she walked into the room, just like every other guy in there.” I hear Rose laugh softly next to me and can’t help but smile too. “I thought she was out of my league for sure, and it took me six damn months to work up the courage to talk to her,” I say with a sad laugh. I look to my side and wonder why that didn’t happen with Rose. Why from the very moment I heard her damn voice out in the street that very first day I was drawn to her. Already connected to her. I never felt a connection like that before, not even with Charlette. “When I finally did,” I continue as I look out across the yard once more. “She looked at me with wide eyes and I thought I was shot down. Done for! Hell it took all my courage to get up the nerve to talk to this girl, the one everyone wanted, and she was just staring at me like a damn deer in headlights.” I look back Rose’s way and she smirks, making me shake my head and laugh a little myself at the memory. “When I went to walk away, she grabbed me by the arm and said, ‘what took you so long.’” I hear Roses’ chuckle right along with mine and the heaviness in my heart eases a little. “I asked her to coffee between classes and then that was it.” I pause and take another moment to myself as the memories flood back before I hear the creak of the rocking chair next to me as Rose pushes herself into a peaceful rhythm. I debate whether or not I should continue and add the last pieces of the story I know she wants, needing to keep some secrets to myself, for now at least. In the end I opt for part of it, and hope Rose doesn’t push for the rest. “We were juniors when she became pregnant with Emma. We both dropped out of school and were married in the fall.”
Bringing the beer up to my mouth again, I chug the rest of it down and stand before she can ask me the one thing I am not ready to tell her. The one hell that I relive over and over again in my mind every day and night. How they died.
The night is late, and it grew entirely too heavy for me as I dove into a past I haven’t talked about in over five years. “I think I should go,” I whisper somberly as I look down into Rose’s eyes.
She tries hard to mask it, but I see the fear set in. The darkness that lingers in the back of her mind. The one thing she fights as hard as she possibly can but never seems to conquer. At least not yet. I know that fear better than she can imagine. She adverts her eyes and stands.
“Yeah I guess it is getting late,” she whispers as she picks up her wine glass and makes her way to the back door. I pour some water out on the flames before I follow and proceed to throw my beer bottle in the trash just inside the door and then watch as she goes to place her glass in the sink. The house is quiet and I know she hates it. I can feel how much she is scared even with her back turned to me. And I get it, because I was there, I’ve seen others there, many times before myself. And when I am not careful, the hell I climbed out of still tries to pull me back under with it.
She washes out the half full glass of wine and turns to me. With a sad little smile, and an acceptance of the loneliness she knows will consume this place once I leave, she begins to make her way towards me in an attempt to pass and see me out.
Impulse rushes through me. An urgency to not let her go. Not yet, at least. I grab out to her instinctively as she brushes past and pull her flush against my chest. Intuitively, like second fucking nature, she wraps her arms around me and stands still. So still I can feel and hear our hearts beating in tune together.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers, admitting a truth we are both trying to hide. I don’t want to leave her either, but I can’t seem to toe the line between friend and lover with her, and that isn’t fair to either of us. I know she needs a friend, but damn it if we both know we need and want so much more from one another. And that is something, I know for damn certain, we might both not be ready for.
She needs someone who can be a strength for her and her kids. She needs a rock, a protector, hell a fucking hero even. I am not that man. I could never be that man. Anything I get close to gets fucking destroyed, and the way I feel about her, the way I feel about Olivia and Liam, I care about them too much to ever let any damn thing happen to them.
“I have to go,” I quietly say, slow and steady, matching the beat of our hearts pounding against one another. But I don’t release her. I can’t. Not yet. I need the way she makes me feel, the way she believes in me, making me realize I might finally be able to believe in myself again. Believe that maybe, just maybe, this time it could be different. That I wouldn’t fuck this up. That it all won’t be taken from me in the blink of a fucking eye because I deserve so much worse for what I’ve done.
She needs me too, us, this, I can feel it. She needs me to silence her mind. To give her the peace I can tell she feels whenever I am around. But fuck, I know the only reason she feels that peace is because she thinks I am someone I am not. A savior. A deliverer. Someone who can give us both the salvation we crave.
But I can’t! We can’t! … Can I?
My hands raise and hold her face captive as I back away from our embrace. “You told me you don’t regret anything?” Her voice quakes as she speaks, her eyes plead with me as I study her, drown in her, fucking need to believe in myself as much as she puts her faith in me.
“I don’t regret anything,” I whisper, as my thumb brushes across her bottom lip and I look up to see her close her eyes just as her body leans in instinctively to my own. “Trust me, I never could,” my confession spills out, causing goosebumps to rise across both of our bodies. “Rose?” I ask, as her eyes raise and lock with mine and I stand there anxiously needing permission to taste her. Just one more time. Before I walk away, get my fucking head straight, and don’t dare cross the line between us ever again.<
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“Please,” she whimpers, as she pushes up on her toes and my carnal instinct to covet her takes over.
Slow. Steady. Passionately I take her kiss. My mouth tenderly brushes against hers before both our lips part and our tongues meet in the most sensual of ways. She fists my shirt in her hands and pulls me closer just as the tip of her tongue licks across my own. She is so close I can feel every curve, every damn inch of her body pressed against mine. My hands rise and grab at her hair, pulling her head gently to the side as our kiss deepens and a deep growl escapes me at the way she tastes. The way she feels. The pulsing craving growing in me to take her, claim her, fucking own her like I want to. The wine on her lips mixes with the alcohol still running through my veins and I crush my mouth against hers harder just as she pushes me back up against the counter behind me.
She releases a sexy-as-fuck moan as my teeth take her bottom lip and I hoist her in my arms. Wrapping her thighs around me, I spin around and set her on the counter, yanking her towards me. I need this. She needs this. We are both fucking crazy if we think we can walk away from the way we make each other feel.
My hands rise in a hurry, having a mind of their own, as I hear her whine of passion as my thumbs brush across her breasts. Our mouths, now greedy, hungry, starving like never before taste one another as we suck the breath straight from each other’s lungs . Not being able to control myself, I mold her ample breasts in my hands like a greedy bastard, needing to remember the way she felt in my arms forever. The way her skin felt perfect, flawless, unbroken, when I have never been blessed to feel the same. And know I won’t, even long after I let go and never let myself touch her again.
She releases my lips and I waste no time in slowly sliding my tongue down her neck to her collarbone. Her skin smells like vanilla and sweet oranges and fuck if it doesn’t make me harder than I already am.
“Justin,” she whispers above me, as I lick, suck, commit her taste to memory before I force myself to back away and be the man I know I need to be. The one that puts her first, before myself, and never goes back on my word to protect her the only way I know how.
By ending this. Stopping myself from going any further and putting her, her kids, in fucking danger. But first, selfishly, I need to satisfy my hunger, even if I know I will never, ever, fucking get enough of her.
Her hands fist my hair as she pulls me up to her face and selfishly takes my kiss again. Our tongues caress each other with such need, such fire, I feel it through every part of my damn body as I pull her closer and don’t let go. Not yet, I just need to feel her a little longer. To taste her and experience one more time how perfectly we fit together. I suck her tongue into my mouth and hear her moan as her hands fall to my jeans. She fumbles with the top two buttons as I taste her, touch her, commit the feeling of our bodies pressed up against each other to memory. One last fucking time.
I feel the top button of my pants loosen just as her kiss speeds up. She wants this, just as much as me. But I know I have to do what is right, even if she hates me for it.
My hands drop to hers as I stop her from going any further. She stills, confused, but allows me to brush my tongue against hers one last time. Pulling back, her eyes are wide as she questions my actions before I pick up her hand and kiss the tips of her fingers.
I see the hurt in her eyes as I press her tiny tips up to my mouth. But I see something else there too. Relief. Understanding. And it is those two things I hold onto as I smile and release her, even when every part of my body, my heart, my fucking soul tells me not to.
“Good night, Sunshine.” I whisper as I back away.
“Good night, Justin,” she smiles before watching me take my exit and leaving us both exactly where we need to be. Safe. Unharmed. Intact. And that is exactly where I promise to keep us. Always.
Chapter 11
Rose
I slam the top of the copier down a little too hard and roll my eyes as I feel everyone’s stare on me across the office. Including his. Rolling my shoulders, I push the buttons indicating I need 10 copies of the agenda for this afternoon’s meeting and breathe out a heavy sigh.
Three weeks ago when he walked out of my house, after our sushi date and late night conversation which turned into the best make out session I’ve ever had, I was surprised but slightly relieved when he stopped us from going any further. Thinking of him as “ever the perfect gentleman,” I was even more surprised when I arrived back to work and was greeted by him as an employee, talked to like a friend, and shown on more than one occasion that there was nothing “gentleman” like about him not taking things further. At least not in the way I thought anyways.
He’s not interested. Why would he be interested in you? You think he wants a woman with baggage? Or better yet, one that has kids to remind him of the one he lost? How fucking stupid are you?
I shake my head and try to focus. I hate to admit it, but I absolutely agree with the voice in my head right now. Something that has been going on often the past few weeks since he has pulled away and become more and more absent in my life. He has only stopped by twice since that day. Once to pick up Liam and take him to the park like he promised the last night he was over. The next time was Christmas Eve to drop off presents for the kids.
When I invited him to stay, to stop by even the next day and enjoy Christmas with us, he politely refused with a sad smile and quickly found a reason to leave abruptly once again. That was my last try. My last attempt to figure out just what went wrong! What happened to make him pull away this much when God, I would have sworn we were headed in a completely different direction. Since then, I have avoided him at all costs and the atmosphere in the office has grown more tense each passing minute of each edgy, stressful day we have worked together.
You came on too strong! You trusted too easily! You showed him how quickly you move on without any regard to your past. The man you loved. The man you promised yourself to forever. Why would he want a woman like you?
Diana walks past the copier and hands me a stack of papers just as the voices begin to take over once more. “Justin wanted you to make copies enough for everyone,” she says quietly as she hands them over. “I told him maybe he should ask you himself, but he only ignored the comment and shoved the papers across his desk at me.”
I look up across the room and have a perfect sight straight into Justin’s office. With his head hung low as he works on laying out a few pages for tomorrow’s paper, I wait until he looks up before my eyes subconsciously begin to glare at him, boring a hole through his thick skull and attempting to telepathically tell him to “go to hell.”
He keeps my eye for only a mere second before looking away quickly. “Maybe you two need to talk, Honey,” Diana whispers quietly between the two of us.
Ever since I started here, Diana has been more of a mother to me than I have ever found in anyone before. Even my own mother. She treats me like her own daughter, checking in on me and the kids constantly, and has even watched Liam and Olivia once or twice when I needed her in a pinch. I trust her. And I don’t trust many people. Which is why she is the only one person I told about Justin and I a week ago. Only a couple days before the last time he showed up at my house and finally made me realize just how wrong I was about him, us, and any damn future there may have been.
Told you! It would never work!
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, forcing the voice inside aside as I realize I am still glaring at him across the room and I am now fully even more aware that more than just Diana has taken notice. Breaking my death stare, I look around the office to see everyone else’s curious, startled expressions.
God, you really are pitiful. You can’t even hide your feelings for a man who obviously does not want you.
“Rose,” Diana whispers, breaking the trance in my head as she takes the copies from my trembling hand and guides me around to meet her eyes. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is looking. I don’t think what happened between the two of you is
all you are dreaming up in your head, Honey. You owe it to you, and him,” she says, giving a slight nod in his direction. “To at least talk about what happened and why everything changed.”
“I can’t,” I say quietly as I hang my head and stare at the floor. “It isn’t right anyways, Diana. Michael…”
“Would want you to be happy,” she says sternly, as any caring mother would. A mother so polar opposite than the one I grew up with. I look up and see her smile. “Even if that happiness comes sooner than you expected it would. You should never hold yourself to a time frame, Rose. Love knows no boundaries, as they say, and time is one of them.”
“This has nothing to do with love,” I shyly laugh, quiet and low, so as not to draw attention to ourselves.
“The thing about love is you might feel it in the heart, but you’ll always see it in the eyes,” her wise words send a shiver through me as I look back at Justin in his office. He looks up once more and I swear I see it, the look we are both trying so strongly to ignore. He masks it quickly, looks away, and pushes out of his chair. “Trust me,” Dianna says, as I turn back to look at her with a hope I wasn’t feeling just a few moments before. Her smile warms my heart and gives me reason to believe she just might be right. But somewhere inside I know, it just can’t be that easy. Could it?
Justin clears his throat as he exits his office. “How’s it going on sports, Glen?” I hear him ask, and my eyes dart back to him at the sound of his voice. He glances my way quickly and catches my stare. His look is nervous, hesitant, but he holds my attention for a beautiful moment where I feel our connection bloom, sprout wings even, before he quickly looks away once again squashing it inside me like a tiny bug when Glen begins to fill him in on his time frame.
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