FUSE (15 page)

"You were torn up about her getting married, Beck. I saw it myself."

"I was upset after seeing her in her wedding dress. When I looked at her on the street in front of her apartment in that dress I realized how happy she was."

"That's a natural reaction," she offers. "I think anyone would be upset."

"When I came to the pub it wasn't about being upset about her marrying Noah. She belongs with Noah. They're a perfect fit."

She cocks a brow. "You really think that?"

"I know it." I shrug my shoulders forward. "They were made for each other."

"Then why were you so torn up? Why were you in the pub getting so wasted that night?"

"I was jealous," I admit easily. "I was so fucking jealous that they each found the person they were meant to be with and I was still alone."

The silence that envelops the room is thick and heavy. She wants more. She needs more. I have to give that to her if I'm going to finally put my past to rest.

"I was angry with myself for wasting years," I pause to correct myself. "I have wasted my entire life up to this point chasing woman after woman looking for something not one of them had."

"What?" she whispers quietly. "What didn't they have?"

"This." I wave my hands over her head. "Not one of them drank cocoa instead of coffee, or wrote letters to elderly people she doesn't know. Not one of them moved to a completely new city to go to law school. I've never met a woman who didn't care that I was Brighton Beck."

She bows her face towards her lap.

"I've never met a woman who kisses me the way that you do, or that looks like an angel when she's sleeping."

Her face moves slightly and I know she's looking at me through the corner of her eye.

"Zoe." I run my finger along her chin. "Look at me, Zoe.

She turns slowly before her eyes search my face. "What is it?"

I cup her cheek in palm. "I have never kissed a woman and felt the things I feel when I kiss you. I have never make love to a woman and felt so completely whole in my entire life. I am falling in love with you. I am falling in love for the first time in my life."

She licks her bottom lip. "I started falling in love with you when I thought you were a Yankee."

I laugh out loud, heartily and fully. "Give me a chance, Zoe. Let me show you that there is not another man on this planet who will love you more than I do."

"We'll take it slow?" she asks tentatively. "We won't rush into anything, okay?"

"I love taking it slow," I growl as I move closer to her. "This can move as slow or as fast as you want."

"Promise me you'll always tell me everything." She cups my face in her palms. "Promise me that I'll always know the good and bad and there won't be any secrets."

"I promise that with everything I am." I tap my chest. "My heart has to share with you, Zoe. I felt that as soon as I saw you at the pub. I knew that you were my destiny. I have no doubt that you will always be."

1
6 Months Later

Zoe

"I start law school tomorrow." I tap him on his shoulder. I hate interrupting him when he's painting but this can't wait.

"I know." He spins around quickly to pull me into his arms. "We should go out and celebrate tonight. I can call Jax and Ivy and see if they're free."

I've become close with Beck's brother and sister-in-law. When he first introduced me to them, I was hesitant. We had just agreed to date and explore our connection and within two months, I had moved in with him. He'd never asked me to give up my job at the pub. I know most people would find it odd that a woman would work at a pub and then take the subway back to her Park Avenue address, but paying my own way has never been a point of contention between us. Beck respects my pride, he celebrates my independence and I love him more for it. I'll need to stop working soon though. I want to talk to him about that today.

"I'd like it to just be the two of us," I say quietly as I reach for his shoulders. "I like spending time with my fiancé alone."

"I love that word." He glances to where my left hand is touching him. "I love that you see the same beauty in my mother's ring that I do."

When he gave me the ring last month I was touched so deeply that I'd cried for an hour. It wasn't only the ring that Beck's mother had worn when she was briefly married to his father, but her mother before her had worn it during her long and beautiful marriage. It is ripe with the history of his family and I wear it proudly every single day. It's a canary yellow diamond set in a brilliant white gold setting.

"Are you all set for your classes?" He nods towards the entrance of the studio. "I can get Albert to go pick up anything you've forgotten."

Albert has taken on more since Beck's studio expansion. He's responsible for organizing the scheduled of the two teachers who help Beck in the late afternoon and evenings with art classes. There is also another dedicated studio space for any artist who contributes their time to teach. It's a bustling space filled with people who all share the dynamic love of art that Beck does.

"I have everything I need." I pat his shoulder. "You know how organized I am."

"I do." He leans forward to kiss me softly. "You're the most organized person I've ever met, Zoe."

"I'll need to get even more organized."

"I'll help you with school," he offers as he twists his head back to look at the canvas he's working on. It's for his second gallery showing this year. This one will be in London. The demand for his work after the opening of the new modern art museum in London has been overwhelming. He's been working almost non-stop the past few months. His creative energy has been in high gear and I love coming here, just to sit and watch him.

I know I should let him work. I should walk away so he can finish for the day but I can't. I need to tell him.

"Beck?" I ask it to pull his attention back to me. "Remember when we said we would get married next summer?"

"You're going to pick a date and we'll do it." He nods. "I'd marry you today if you'd agree to it."

"What about Saturday?"

"This Saturday?" His beautiful blue eyes lock on mine. "You want to marry me this Saturday? As in 5 days from now."

"Yes."

"I'll be there." He's almost jumping up and down. I can feel the excitement seep from his body into mine. "Tell me where and when."

"Our apartment?" It's more a question than a suggestion. "Maybe in the early evening."

"Zoe." His lips feather over mine. "I can't wait for Saturday."

"I can't wait for May," I whisper into his lips.

"May?" He searches my face for the answer but I know that he can sense it. "May is eight months away."

"In May we will..."

He falters only slightly on his feet before he reaches for my hands. "You're going to have a baby."

"A baby in May," I nod through tears. "Our baby is coming in May."

He smiles though his own tears as he cups my face in his hands, leans his forehead against mine and breathes deeply. "This is the best life any man could ever have. I love you, Zoe."

"It is the best life," I whisper into his lips. "I love you, Beck. I always will."

"I
f you're coming back to my place I need to buy some condoms."

The fork in my hand stops in mid-air. I don't look up. I can't. I've barely taken one bite of the roasted squash salad the waiter brought me not more than four minutes ago. This is New York City. This is the place where I thought I'd find the love of my life. What the hell was I thinking?

"You're up for coming back, right?"

My head darts up and I study him. This might actually be the first time I've seriously looked right at him. I'm on a blind date. Maybe the term itself holds more meaning than the literal. Obviously, I had no idea what Larry looked like before I walked through the doors of Axel NY a half hour ago. More than that, I couldn't have predicted that we'd be talking about sex before I'd finished my first glass of wine.

"I don't know you," I say bluntly. "Why would I go home with you?"

It's a question that borders heavily on rhetorical. I don't think that Larry's bright enough to weave those tangled pieces of subtly together. He's an assistant to a paralegal. That says a lot about his drive in life considering he looks like he's in his mid-forties. He's also dying to be fucked. He's not shy about it at all.

"We're on a date, Bridget ..." The words linger there on his thin, smug lips. He doesn't add to them because why would he? Those words have clearly and succinctly spelled out every intention that he has. They aren't masked in anything but the truth. Larry wants his dick to see some action tonight and I'm apparently the main attraction in that circus.

"It's just a date," I explain. "I'd like to get to know you first."

"Why?" He pushes the food from his fork into his mouth and chews.

"I'm not interested in a quick fuck."

His unruly brow cocks. "I heard you were up for just about anything."

Fuck you, Zoe Beck. Fuck you for whatever the hell you said to him when you arranged this date.

"I have no idea what my friend told you about me," I pause while I contemplate how to put this delicately. I stare at him. The wayward piece of kale that is stuck between his front teeth is only adding to the allure that is Larry.

He leans forward on the table. The patch on the elbow of his inexpensive suit jacket brushes against the linen tablecloth. "This place isn't cheap. I brought you here because I thought you were a sure thing."

A sure thing? A fucking sure thing?

I wince at the words. "The only sure thing tonight is that you're going home alone."

It's obvious immediately that Larry is contemplating those words with all the grace of a pack of wild dogs. His hand slams heavily against the spotless white linen tablecloth. "I didn't buy you that expensive salad for nothing. The least you can do is blow me."

No, the least I can do is tell him to fuck right off. "I am not interested in you."

"I'm not interested in you either." He flings his napkin at me and it lands squarely in my squash salad. I was actually going to have another bite of that. "I like brunettes."

Touché. "I like men with hair."

Ouch. I can feel Larry's pain from across the table. Obviously no one, including all the brunettes he's been with, has pointed out the bad comb over that's happening on the top of his odd shaped head.

'We're leaving now."

I actually look to the right and the left to see who Larry is talking to. I'm gathering that he's still engaged in a conversation with me even though I'm trying desperately to ignore him. People are starting to stare and I have no aversion to a little extra attention, but tonight, I don't want to be the main attraction in Larry's sideshow.

"Get up." He grabs tightly to my bare bicep and yanks hard.

I cry out sharply. Considering the fact that most of my body is still stuck next to this table in a chair my arm can't leave with Larry. "Let go of me."

"Is there a problem?"  A deep, husky voice asks.

I turn towards it even though Larry is still trying to separate my arm from my shoulder to take as a consolation prize. I look up into the dark eyes of a brown haired man. He's staring down at me with a noticeable look of concern on his face.

"Hey," he calls across the table at Larry. "Enough. You're hurting her."

"Get lost." Larry loosens his grip only momentarily. "My girlfriend and I don't need your help."

Wait. No. Hell no.

'I'm not your girlfriend," I growl at him. "Let go of my arm already."

"You're coming with me." Larry pulls harder and I can't help but cry out in pain.

Within an instant my arm is free and the lapel of Larry's jacket is firmly entrenched in the fisted hands of the handsome man with the dark eyes.

"Are you okay?" He cocks a winged brow. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine." My voice is quiet and small. Maybe I'm not as fine as I thought. I lean my hands on the table, suddenly feeling dizzy.

I hear movement behind me before I sense someone crouching next to me. "He's gone. Are you sure you're okay?"

I turn to the left and look into the same deep brown eyes. "I'm fine. He just shook me up."

"He may have torn something in your shoulder." He presses it lightly with his fingers. "I'd get it checked out if it's sore tomorrow."

"Are you a doctor?" I know he's probably on a date with someone. The dark suit he's wearing doesn't hide his muscular frame.

"No." A small grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. "I’m a firefighter. I'm Dane."

"Bridget," I say with a wince as I try to move my arm to shake his hand.

"I'm taking you to the ER now." He pulls on the back of my chair. "Come with me."

I don't protest. Why would I? He's a fireman and he wants to rescue me. I may actually have to thank Zoe for this date, after all.

Ember – The New Series

Coming Spring 2015

T
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eborah Bladon has never read a romance hero she didn't like. Her love for romance novels began when she was old enough to board the bus, library card in hand to check out the newest Harlequin paperbacks. She's a Canadian by heart, and by passport, but you can often spot her in New York City sipping a latte and looking for inspiration for her next story. Manhattan is definitely her second home.