“Oh, Milo ...” Natasha hesitated. “I wasn’t planning to go to your party,” she said gently. “I’m not volunteering today.”
“It’s just a party, Mom. You already have visitor passes.”
“Right.” Natasha looked to Carol and Kurt for support.
Peculiarly enough, they left her hanging.
“I like candy!” Carol said, comically rubbing her belly.
“Me too!” Kurt added, joining in. “Lead me to it.”
“But ...” Simultaneously wanting to settle things with Damon and
not
disappoint her son, Natasha wavered. “I didn’t even bring anything to share. Maybe I should go buy some Sweethearts or something—you know, those Necco conversational hearts with the sayings printed on them? You like those, Milo. They’re made on dedicated nut-free production lines, so they’re safe.”
“There’s no need for that, Ms. Jennings.” The vice principal leaned in to offer a confiding, twinkly-eyed glance. “We have a special guest here at school today. He’s brought special allergen-free candy to share with all the children.”
Natasha stared at her, momentarily speechless. All she could think of was that Damon had lost his big chance. If someone else already had devised a full-range line of “safe” candy that appealed to third graders like Milo ... poor Damon.
“It’s true, Mom. Come on!” Milo urged, taking her hand.
That’s how, an instant later, Natasha found herself headed down the hallway in her eager son’s wake. Any second now, she’d be settling into a pint-size chair, surrounded by hyped-up students. Any second now, she’d be watching those students trade cartoon valentines. Any second now, she’d step into Milo’s elementary school classroom—decorated with plastic-lace doilies and a pin-up chart of cursive handwriting instructions—and probably join in cutting out construction paper hearts herself.
Any second now, she’d be ... seeing
Damon
, standing outside?
Staring in disbelief, Natasha moved faster. At her side, Milo guffawed. He gave Natasha an elaborate poke. “Look, Damon! I did it!” Milo crowed. “I got my mom to come to school, just like I said I would! I told you I could do it!”
Still gaping, Natasha trailed after Milo, who (unbelievably) rushed ahead to hug Damon. Then, after trading a few whispered words with him, Milo nodded. He pulled open the classroom door, gave a very hammy summoning gesture to Carol and Kurt, then winked at Damon. “There you go, pal! Alone at last!”
At his chirpy, theatrical tone, Natasha burst out laughing.
Then the door shut behind Milo and the others, leaving her alone with Damon. Still hardly able to believe he was really there, Natasha came to a stop a few feet from him. She glanced through the classroom door’s rectangular slice of window, spied Amy, Isobel, and Manny, myriad third graders, and ... an otter?
“Is that
Jason
?” she asked. “In the mascot suit?”
Damon hadn’t moved. He was still practicing his best one-shouldered, casual lean against the hallway wall—a move he’d perfected years ago, as far as Natasha was concerned. He gazed at her. Somberly, he nodded. “It’s Jason. How did you know?”
“Jason has a funny walk,” Natasha said matter-of-factly. “It’s as if he expects his feet to fall off at any second, so he shuffles around to make sure they won’t have very far to drop.”
Damon laughed. “That’s it exactly.” He shook his head, as though marveling at her. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“I can’t believe
you’re
here—along with everyone else who got
me
here, of course.” She wanted desperately to move closer. But now that she was here, she felt ridiculously tongue-tied. Also, enlightened about a few things that had happened to her so far today. “Carol, Milo, Kurt, Amy, Jason ...” Jokingly, Natasha gestured at her family and friends. “I can tell when I’ve been set up, Damon. Is there anyone you
didn’t
draft to help you pull off this little surprise of yours?”
“I couldn’t wait any longer,” Damon said in a husky voice. His gaze met hers, dark and magnetic. Then he frowned. “But by the time I realized that, I was already committed to this school appearance. I couldn’t just skip out on it. I’d met the vice principal and some of the office staff when I used to pick up Milo and walk him home from school, and we hit it off.” Damon’s shrug suggested that the mostly female school staff had been more than helpful ... as usual for him. “When I had the idea to try a testing panel composed of the intended target market—kids—this was the first place that came to mind. And they agreed! It was only serendipity that it was Valentine’s Day this week, and—”
“Thanks for the Jacaranda tree, by the way,” Natasha broke in, daring to take a tentative step closer. “I love it.”
“—and I’m talking too much. I’m sorry. You probably have no idea what’s going on. But then, I’m kind of winging this.” With a sheepish grin, Damon shoved his hands through his dark, wavy hair. He took a step closer, too. “The truth is, Natasha ... I’ve missed you. So much. I’m
so
sorry for everything that happened with Wes. He got it all wrong! You have to believe me.”
“I believe you,” Natasha said. She took another step.
“It was all just Wes’s boneheaded idea of being helpful,” Damon went on in a desperate tone. “He’s new at it. He screws up a lot. We
do
have that in common. But I didn’t know anything about what Wes was doing. I didn’t lie to you. I
never
meant to hurt you! Please,
please
believe me about that. I—”
“I believe you.” Natasha took his hand. It felt ... great.
“I—” Damon stared at their joined hands. Evidently without any volition on his part, he’d tightly clasped her hand, too. Looking befuddled but determined, he forged on. “Before we were together—back in Las Vegas—I realized I didn’t like my life anymore,” he said in that same raspy, emotional tone. “I didn’t like how it felt. I didn’t like where it was going. I didn’t like who
I
was in the middle of it. But I didn’t know how to get out of it.” Here, Damon gave a rueful grin. “I guess my public on-camera meltdown kind of did that for me, right?”
Compassionately, Natasha squeezed his hand.
“But I
did
know I liked being with you,” Damon went on. “I always have. You rescued me. You stood by me. You made me laugh and you kept me on my toes and you weren’t fooled by all my bullshit, either. You were tough. But fair. You were—”
“Yeah. I sound like a real peach,” Natasha joked.
Damon smiled. “You
were
. You were the best. And that’s why, after my workshop debacle, when Tamala came to my hotel suite—”
“I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
“—I let her dupe me into that whole chocolate body painting idea. I let her tie me up and make me a molded nougat thong—”
“La la la!” Natasha sang, playfully covering her ears.
“—and I did it
on purpose
,” Damon persisted. “I’d blown it with that workshop because the pressure was too much for me. Afterward, I needed a kind word. I needed a hug. I needed—”
“Kinky sex with a diabolical pastry chef? Well, Damon—”
“—I needed
you
,” Damon finished urgently, squeezing her hand again. His eyes met hers once more. “I knew that if I was really in trouble—really,
really
in trouble—you would come.”
“I came, all right.” Racked with remorse, Natasha looked away. “Then I left you there all alone.” She transferred her gaze to Damon again, loving the way it felt to be near him, even if it only lasted a little while. “I’m so sorry for that, Damon. I don’t cope well with major emotional events. Or with minor emotional setbacks. Or even with unexpected good fortune. I just sort of freeze up and then go into move-ahead mode. I’ve just realized that—thanks to my family and friends. So that night, at the party, when we had that run-in with Wes—”
“It killed me to watch you walk away from me.”
“—it was just the excuse I needed to bail out,” Natasha said. “I couldn’t believe, after all these years, that you really wanted
me
for
me
, Damon. I couldn’t believe I’d finally gotten lucky in the biggest way of all: in love. So I left.”
“I didn’t follow you. I’m so sorry for that.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Feeling a fresh allotment of fast-acting tears—the only kind she seemed to produce lately—brimming in her eyes, Natasha decided to make things quick. “I wasn’t ready then. But I’m ready now.” Suddenly, inspiration struck. Her sometimes faulty memory rebounded. With a new rush of hopefulness, she raised her wrist. “See? This proves it!”
With raised eyebrows, Damon examined her. “Your bare arm?”
“What?” Baffled, Natasha gave her wrist a second look. Whoops. With an equally melodramatic flourish (maybe Milo came by his theatrical bent naturally, it occurred to her), she raised her other wrist. “No,
this
,” she said. “My bracelet.”
For an instant, the only sounds were their breathing.
Well, that
and
the boisterous noise of twenty-odd sugar-hyped third graders trading valentines just beyond the closed door. But that wasn’t as romantic to Natasha as the near silence in her overactive imagination would have been. Or as romantic as the look on Damon’s face was as he nodded at her bracelet, then raised his solemn gaze to her face.
“It’s eclectic,” he said. “I like it.”
Natasha couldn’t help sighing. “You
remembered
.”
“What you said about your jewelry? Of course I remembered.” Damon gave her a dazzling smile. “Thanks for showing me.”
“Oh. Right. You’re welcome.” Caught up in the wonder of his familiar, long-lost smile, Natasha stood there bedazzled and mute for a second. Then, “It’s for you!” she blurted, wrestling with the clasp on the heavy platinum chain links. “I made it for you. In my art workshop.” Finally, she wrestled it off.
With utter earnestness, she fastened it on Damon’s wrist. If he didn’t like it, if he rejected it, rejected
her
, after all this time, Natasha thought in a dither, she didn’t know what she’d do. She felt as if she might die. Or cry. Or scream.
Nodding, Damon admired his gift. “I like it.” With a blithe look, he glanced up. “Does this mean we’re going steady?”
“No, you dope!” Helplessly, Natasha swatted his arm. This time, the tears she’d held back
did
fall. “It means I love you!”
“Hmmm.” Damon’s shining eyes met hers. His mouth quirked in another teasing grin. “It’s not inscribed anyplace.”
Did he have to joke about
everything
? “Actually, it is. You have to turn it over.” Natasha watched in agonized suspense as Damon read the inscription: T
HANKS FOR BRINGING BACK THE FUN. LOVE, N. “
But the point is,” she went on, “I love you, Damon! I’ve loved you for
so
long. I love your smile and your generosity and your knack for always making me feel sexy. I love your way of reading to Milo. I love that you let Finn sleep on your head. I love that even when everything is going great for you, you don’t even realize it, because you’re just happy to be alive. I love that you have fun, and I love that you make mistakes—because without that, you’d be pretty insufferable, frankly—and I love that you’re
here
right now, with me. I don’t care how it happened—”
“It happened because I made it happen,” Damon finally said in a fierce, impatient voice. “Give me some credit, will you?”
Then, before Natasha could muster up the credit he’d just demanded she give him—or anything else even remotely laudatory—Damon pulled her in his arms, crushed them both against the waiting wall, and kissed her.
Spellbound and incredulous, Natasha kissed him back. Their mouths met in a way she’d only dreamed about during the long, sleepless nights she’d spent lately, and when their kiss was finally over, when Damon finally lifted his head and smiled at her ...
When he did that, Natasha only reversed their positions and kissed him harder. Because Damon wasn’t the only one running this relationship.
She
was, too. If he didn’t like that ...
His low, erotic moan suggested he
did
like it. A lot.
Well ...
good
, Natasha decided. Because she liked it, too.
“If I can get a word in edgewise, I’d like my turn at telling you a few things, too,” Damon said breathlessly, still holding her in his arms. “Only
somebody
issued a demand, years and years ago, that I
never
tell her I love her—”
He meant her, Natasha knew.
Don’t tell me you love me
, she’d demanded in his office on that long-ago day when they’d first met.
Don’t flirt. Don’t
... Well, the rest didn’t matter now.
“Only because I never thought it would be true!” she interrupted hastily. “Only because I couldn’t have you.”
“You only had to ask.” Damon kissed her again. He stroked her cheek, then delved his hand in her hair. “You could have had me at the drop of a hat. All you had to do was say the word.”
“The word?” Natasha grinned, feeling happy and fulfilled and more full of hope than she had since ... forever. “What word?”
“Well, technically, today it’s two words.” Damon released her. He stepped back, then gestured at the door. “Open sesame.”
“What? I don’t get it.” Natasha scrunched her nose, wondering if all this exposure to Crayolas and glue had affected Damon’s brainpower somehow. Then she just decided to take a leap of faith. Why not? It had already brought her this far.
“All right.” Natasha faced the closed classroom door. Dutifully, she did as Damon suggested. “Open sesame.”
Chapter 28
As leaps of faith went, Damon decided as he opened the classroom door for Natasha, his was a pretty immense one.
Feeling as though he were straddling a chasm between total contentment and utter ruin, Damon held his breath. He glanced at Natasha. He took her hand and led her inside Milo’s class.
“They’re here! They’re here!” the kids shouted.
In chaotic glee, the third graders scrambled around the classroom. Hastily, they grabbed the posters and pictures and big, red, heart-shaped construction-paper valentines they’d made in class. In unison, they hoisted their assorted celebratory items, all in appropriate shades of pink and white and red.