All Of You (Only You) (11 page)

"First, I'm twenty-nine and you're forty-one, it's twelve years. Second, you can't really believe that I would screw you and see other women at the same time?" He waited for her reply, but she remained mute. It pained him to realize she thought him capable of what amounted to two-timing. "Third, I never asked you to marry me, so I think you might be jumping the gun there."

If he hadn't been watching her so closely, he would have missed the hurt that flashed in her eyes before she turned her head away. Even now, when she'd slashed into his heart with her rejection of anything more than sex between them he still wanted to apologize for hurting her and make it better. Damn. He was a goner. It had been in the corner of his mind for a while, but until this moment when she all but cut his legs out from under, Ryan ignored it.

He loved her.

In less time than it took to demolish a house he'd fallen for Claire.

"When I said I wanted more I wasn't just talking about sex. I want
all
of you, Claire. I want it all. Body, heart, and soul."

Claire gasped, her gaze coming back to meet his. Too many emotions crossed her face and swirled in her eyes for him to really know what she was thinking, but he was convinced he'd seen hope in those hazel depths. She shook her head—a physical denial of his words—and Ryan laughed, but there was no humor in the sound that fell from his lips.

"You can't mean that."

"Why can't I? You think I don't know how I feel?" Her denial of his feelings hurt, but he figured she was trying to protect herself more than she was trying to protect him.

"No, I…"

"This, Claire," he placed his hand over his heart as he spoke. "What I feel in here, with you, this is love. That woman you mentioned, the one to make my heart got pitter-patter, it's you."

"But, I can't . . ."

"Yes, you can. But the question is do you feel the same?" Ryan held his breath, waited for the answer that could make or break him.

When Claire remained silent, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg her to love him. At that point it became very clear to Ryan just how much he loved her and how important it was he didn't screw this up. He couldn't act like a needy kid. That would only reinforce her view of their age gap. No, he needed to make it clear to her what he wanted and hope she wanted the same. If not he'd walk away. Pain stabbed through his chest at the very idea, but he knew he'd do it. For Claire he'd do anything.

"I've never pushed you for anything you aren't prepared to give, and this is no exception, but I want a future with you, Claire. What I feel for you, what we have together, is something most people never find. I don't know why you're so hung up on our ages. It isn't what I see when I look at you. It isn't what I think about when we're together. All I think about is how happy you make me, how complete my life is with you in it."

A tear ran down her cheek, quickly followed by others. He stepped forward, brought his hand up to brush the drops away with his thumbs.

"Don't cry. The last thing I want to do is make you sad, Claire." He bent forward, kissed her wet lashes before pressing his lips to hers.

"Ryan."

"Shh, don't say anything. I've told you how I feel, but I think you need time to work out what it is you feel before we can take this conversation or this relationship any further."

He kissed her again, a hard press of mouths that felt like goodbye. Pulling away, he used his fingers to wipe away the rest of her tears while struggling not to succumb to them himself.

"I can't give you—"

"Stop worrying about what you can give me and start worrying about what I want. You. Just you, Claire."

"But—"

"No buts. Only Claire."

Then Ryan did the single most difficult thing in his life so far. He turned and walked away. Each step he took tightened the invisible band around his chest, the one Claire held the key to unlocking, and he was walking away from her. When he reached her front door, he had to stop himself from turning back to look at her. If he did, he wouldn't be able to curb the urge to beg her to reconsider. But if they had any chance of a future, she needed to come to terms with not only their age difference; she had to love him too. And at the moment Ryan wasn't sure she did.

With a heavy heart, he closed the door behind him and pulled his keys from his pocket. Instead of going home, he walked to his truck and climbed in. Ryan put the keys in the ignition and turned. The radio sprang to life, drowning out the roar of the engine. He wrapped his fingers around the top of the steering wheel and laid his forehead on the back of them. Eyes closed, he tried to clear his mind, to focus on what his next move should be, but all he could think about was getting out of the car and going back to Claire's.

He needed to get away. If he stayed here, he'd never resist the lure of having her so close. Ryan put the truck in reverse and backed out of his spot. On autopilot, he drove to the work site and the one person he knew he could count on. Brett. His brother would be the voice of reason, and if not he'd at least be able to crash at Brett's place for a few nights until he got himself sorted out, or Claire came looking for him. Whichever came first.

Ryan had the horrible feeling he'd have it all worked out long before she came looking for him.

Chapter Six

Claire eyed the pile of paperwork on her desk and wondered when the mountain would come tumbling down. It had been over a week since she'd seen Ryan, and nothing in her life had gone right since. First she really had been sick, during all her crying and stressing over the situation with Ryan she'd managed to pick up a cold. In the middle of the hottest February on record she'd found the one and only cold germ in Sydney.

Coughing and sniffling her way through last week had put her behind, but add in the distraction of the mess she'd made of things with Ryan, and Claire had only just kept her head above water at work. As it was, Jane had come in last Friday and helped her with some of the final details for the winter campaign. She'd been thankful when Jane hadn't brought up the subject of Ryan again after Claire cut her off the first time she'd broached the topic.

She knew it was only a matter of time before Jane came gunning for her, but Claire preferred to deal with one thing at time right now, and the massive pile of papers perched precariously on her desk was the first order of business. Pulling the first folder from the pile, Claire got to work. With painstaking thoroughness, she checked off the figures and entered them into her computer. This was her least favorite part of her job, but then the pile of figures to be added usually wasn't this high either. Sighing, Claire picked up the next file.

Lost in a sea of numbers and the constant need to blow her nose, she didn't notice Jane come in and sit across from her. It wasn't until her friend cleared her throat very loudly that Claire looked up.

"Hey, didn't see you there."

"I noticed. Not sure I've ever seen you that engrossed with numbers before."

"Blah. Not engrossed as much as comatose." Claire leaned back and rubbed her forehead, the throbbing from her cold made worse by the concentration necessary to get work done.

"You look like shit. Maybe you should go home to bed. Get one of the girls to enter the figures," Jane suggested.

"I'll be fine. I don't need to go home."

"Don't need to or don't want to?"

Claire looked at Jane and knew her time was up. Her friend wanted answers, and if Claire was any judge, also wanted to deliver a lecture of some sort.

"Don't know what you mean."

Jane's laughter echoed around the room, and Claire rolled her eyes. Why did she even bother to try and deflect the question? Sighing, she pushed her chair back and stood up. She walked to the door, pushed it closed, and returned to her seat.

"Fine. Don't want to. It just reminds me of how badly I screwed things up."

"So go unscrew them."

"It's not that easy."

"Why?"

"Ryan isn't there. I haven't seen him or his truck since Saturday before last."

"Go to his work."

"I don't know where he works." Claire's face heated with the blush of shame at not knowing where Ryan worked. In all the time they'd spent together she'd never asked. She knew he was a builder and owned his own company with his brother, Brett, but she had no idea where that company was.

"Judging by the color in your face, this is something you've already thought of."

"Yeah, last Monday. After the weekend spent in bed feeling sorry for myself, I worked out what I'd done and went looking for him after work. But he wasn't home. Then or at midnight."

"You waited up?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"No. I wouldn't have let him leave in the first place. Tell me again why that was for the best?"

Claire glared at her best friend and considered throwing her pen at the smug face staring back. She couldn't bring herself to do it though. Jane had every right to say "I told you so," and Claire deserved anything that came her way. In her foolishness she managed to not only hurt herself but Ryan too, and that's what upset her most. Even with all her good intentions, they'd both gotten hurt when neither of them needed to. If she'd been brave enough to believe in them and not worry about what others might think, none of this would have happened.

"I was wrong," she murmured.

"What you were was confused and in love with someone you thought could never love you back. Claire I understand how Ryan could short-circuit that usually astute mind of yours, but it's time to put that brain in gear and go get your man. Because he is yours, Claire. You just have to go claim him."

"How, when he won't even answer his phone?" Her words vibrated with the frustration of numerous unanswered calls. "I've left a million voice messages, and he hasn't returned one of them."

"What message did you leave?"

"I just asked him to call me and that we needed to talk."

Jane laughed. "Last time you said you needed to talk the man's world blew up in his face. Somehow I don't think he'll be rushing to ring you back."

Claire gasped and sat forward in her chair. "Oh my god, you're right." How could she be so stupid? Why did the logical part of her mind take a holiday where Ryan was concerned?

"I suggest a different type of message this time." Jane stood up and reached for the remaining stack of files on Claire's desk. "I'll cover work for the rest of today. Go home, get some sleep, and ring Ryan."

She watched Jane leave, thankful she had a friend and work colleague who went the extra mile when she needed it. Claire owed Jane for this and everything else she'd taken for granted over the years of their friendship. Promising herself she'd do something nice for Jane as soon as this mess she'd gotten into was sorted out, Claire retrieved her handbag and left work.

Midday traffic clogged the streets, and it took her over an hour to make it home. Ryan's truck wasn't in his spot, but then Claire didn't expect to see it at this time of the day anyway. After parking her car, she climbed out and locked it before making her way inside. Tossing her purse on the hall table, she headed for the kitchen and a glass of wine. A little liquid courage was in order before she placed the all-important phone call.

Claire kicked off her shoes and opened the fridge. She sighed as she plucked the open bottle of wine from the door, then grabbed a glass and headed upstairs to her room. She put the bottle and glass on her dresser and quickly slipped out of her work clothes and into a loose T-shirt and shorts. Comfy, she dropped onto her bed and reached for the phone. After placing it on the covers next to her, Claire got up to grab the wine. Back on the bed, she poured a glass and drank down half of the cold liquid before topping it up again.

With a full glass in hand, she placed the bottle on her bedside table and picked up the phone. Claire took a deep breath and pressed the speed dial button for Ryan. Bringing the phone to her ear, she listened as it rang and rang. Finally voicemail kicked in.

"Ryan. It's Claire. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt either of us, and I have. Please, please call me."

She disconnected the call and threw the phone down with a sigh. If he didn't ring back in an hour, she'd call again.

*****

Claire picked up the phone for the tenth time and dialed Ryan. Each message she'd left had gone unanswered, and she was going out of her mind waiting. It was almost midnight, but she didn't care. She couldn't sleep anyway. He hadn't called, and he hadn't come home either. She should know; she'd looked out her front window a million times to check. The call went straight to voicemail this time, which led her to think he'd switched his phone off. If he didn't want her to call again, he'd have to tell her. There was no way she was giving up on them until he told her to.

"Ryan, please call me back. I'm not giving up until I've spoken to you, preferably in person, but if you'd prefer to do it over the phone, fine. Call me."

She dropped the phone on the bed and crawled under the covers. She might not be able to sleep, but she wouldn't ring again tonight. And she wouldn't take tomorrow off either. She couldn't sit around the house waiting another day. Today had just about done her in. No. She'd go into work and keep herself occupied until he rang or answered one of her calls.

Sleep came in small doses. By the time the sun came up, Claire was tangled in a mass of sheets and blanket. She'd somehow managed to rip the bottom sheet from the mattress and tied herself in knots. Her eyes were gritty and her vision blurred—not the best way to start the morning. Thrashing about didn't free her limbs. She flopped back on the bed with a sigh. Definitely not a good start to the day.

She rolled to the edge of the mattress and swung her bound feet to the floor. Sitting up helped loosen the sheets enough that she could wiggle the rest of the way out of her improvised mummy costume. Claire kicked the bedding aside and headed for the shower, maybe sticking her head under a cold spray would help wake her up. After stripping her sleep shirt over her head, Claire threw it at the hamper that no longer held any of Ryan's clothes. Yesterday that thought made her want to cry. Today it made her more determined to change the situation. Whatever it took, she would do it if it meant having Ryan and his dirty underwear back in her house.

*****

Ryan stared into the darkness. His brother's house lay silent around him. He'd stayed with Brett for over a week. It was beyond time to go home to deal with Claire and the many feelings she provoked. Not the least of which stood at attention beneath his boxers. Even after their fight, he still sported a permanent hard-on for her. As angry as he'd been it hadn't made a difference to the way he felt about her or them. Like he'd told her, he wanted a future with her, and he wasn't worried about what that entailed. As long as she was beside him, he didn't care.

He'd thought about Claire non-stop. How could he convince her they should give what they had together a chance? He had given them both a week. Okay. He'd given Claire a week. He would have walked straight back into her house after leaving if he thought it would have done any good. But he wasn't about to risk losing her completely, and that's what would have happened. The way she'd stood there telling him they had no future when it was clear to him she wanted the opposite had convinced him she wouldn't be swayed to his way of thinking yet.

His plan wouldn't conquer the world, but it was well on its way to winning Claire's heart. Each message today had been different from the numerous others she'd left this past week. Something had changed, and he had a sneaky suspicion that heart of hers was finally taking over her brain. Of course it helped having the information Jane had given him. Apparently, the receptionist at Claire's office had been asking Jane for his number. He wasn't sure if Claire knew about it, but he'd make it perfectly clear he had no interest in that woman or any other for that matter.

He hoped Jane had kept his phone calls in confidence. In the months since they'd first met he'd discovered she could be bitchy at times, but she was still Claire's best friend and seemed to want the same thing he did—for Claire to be happy. Ryan knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he was the man to bring Claire happiness. If only she'd give him the chance.

Glancing at the bedside table, he saw it was four in the morning, but he couldn't sleep, hadn't slept all night really. He should be exhausted. He'd been pulling extra hours at work to keep himself from going after Claire too soon, but sleep had eluded him this evening. Excitement over his coming meeting with Claire had kept more than his mind up. His cock was hard, a state all too familiar whenever she was on his mind. But now, after a week without being inside her tight body, he eagerly anticipated their reunion.

Ryan gave up on sleep and crawled out of bed. Flicking on the light, he gathered up his gear and got dressed. As quietly as he could, he tiptoed down the hall into the kitchen. He rummaged in the drawers, but in the end settled for an old receipt he found in his wallet to leave his brother a note. Using a magnet, he placed the message at eye level on the fridge and let himself out the back door. The early morning air held a chill, and he wondered if the summer heat was finally giving way to autumn.

He walked around the house to the street where he'd parked his truck. After throwing his duffle bag onto the passenger seat, he climbed in and turned the engine over. With a purr, the motor sprang to life, and he was soon maneuvering down the road toward work. No traffic at this time of day meant a quick run to the site, and Ryan found himself in the office less than thirty minutes after leaving Brett's.

While booting up the PC, Ryan switched on the coffee pot in the corner and waited for both machines to warm up. In minutes he sat before the luminous screen with a steaming mug in hand and piles of invoices to enter into the company spreadsheets. Normally they'd wait until the job was nearly done before dealing with the paperwork, but in the last week Ryan had entered all but the ones remaining on the desk. By the time the sun came up they'd be done and filed away, too.

When Brett arrived the sun was peeking over the horizon and the noise of the crew arriving could be heard through the open door, but it was the cup tray in his brother's hand and the brown bag in the other that got Ryan's attention.

"Breakfast?" Hope rang loud and clear in that one word.

"Yep, got you your usual."

"Damn, I think I love you. Will you marry me?"

Brett laughed. "In your dreams, dweeb."