Open Your Eyes (16 page)

Part
Two

Chapter Thirty-one

Natalie

Exactly eight days since I had returned from the USA, my phone rang and a screen shot of my best friend Miranda smiled back at me. This was her fifth call; I had let it go to voicemail each time before and never acted on her messages to call her back.

Although I had been seriously jetlagged, I had hardly slept all week, so I was
bone tired. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. And even that may not be long enough to feel human again.

I’d hardly said hello when Miranda ripped into me. “For a best friend
, you’ve been awfully quiet since you got back. I want to hear all about your trip, darling. And don’t leave anything out. I saw Olivia’s Facebook pictures and the tabloid pics with the very dashing photographer, so I want details. Every one of them! Your new hair looks fabulous, by the way.”

“Miranda, what a lovely surprise.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands. I was so not in the mood for this conversation now. “And how was your Christmas? All the kids at your place this time? And Rodney?” I tried evading her demands with questions of my own.

“Nat, you get laid in New York and you want to know about my Christmas? Are you crazy, girl?” she mocked.

“Who said I got laid?”

“What?” she spluttered. “You want to tell me you were with that gorgeous man for nearly two weeks and you didn’t sleep with him?”

I paused a moment, thinking about the best response to give. This was too long for Miranda’s liking.
“Well, either there is something wrong with… wait, don’t tell me he’s gay!” Her voice went up an octave or two.

“I didn’t say I
didn’t
get laid.”
Crap, I've just opened a can of worms.

“
Whew, you had me worried for a moment there. Anyway, come to think of it,
why isn’t he married?
A catch like Nicholas Gallagher – at his age. Don’t think I didn’t Google him. Maybe he has commitment issues? Like George Clooney.” Miranda had a way of answering her own questions, her conversations often very one sided as she jumped to conclusions or tried to analyze things without all the information.

Finally her brain caught up with her mouth. “You did get laid! And you didn’t even call me, your best friend, to tell me about it
.” There was a wounded note to her voice.

“Miranda, what
? Are we back in high school now? I don’t kiss and tell, remember?” I sighed.

“Exactly my point
, darling. We aren’t in high school any more. We are both practically divorced and over forty. So if you have a holiday romance and get laid, it's a very big deal,” she squealed. “I knew I should have come to New York with you. Maybe he is into threesomes? God knows, I wouldn’t mind getting laid by a hunk of a man like Nicholas Gallagher.”

“It wasn’t…like that,” I beg
an to explain, horrified by the picture in my head. A threesome with Miranda, no matter how long we had been friends, was inconceivable and definitely not on my bucket list.

“What do you mean?” she fired away
. “Don’t tell me he’s not hung. I've seen pictures of his hands, they are huge. Usually men with big hands have big dicks. Or at least that’s what Cosmo says.”

“Miranda! I wasn’t talking about the size of his…what I mean…” I gulped, struggling for air.

“So he’s not gay but he’s a commitment-phobe,” she mused. “Are you telling me he has erectile problems? It's not uncommon at his age, you know.”

“Oh no. No, it’s not that,” I said
, laughing out loud. What would Nick say if he were a fly on the wall? He’d be very amused indeed. I couldn’t help it, but my heart melted just a little when I thought of him. But as the image of his very impressive erection flashed through my mind, a flood of feelings rushed through me, leaving a flutter in my belly and my panties dampened.

Even from nearly ten thousand miles away, the man still had an effect on me. I could dine the rest of my life on the memories we made in those two weeks. But it would be so much better having the real thing instead
– having Nick make love to me every day for the rest of my life. I let out a deep sigh.

“Oh
, I get it, you don’t want to share. Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to share him with anyone either. Not even you.” Since when had this become about her?

“Miranda…”

“Hey, Nat? If it was going that well with Mr. Big Dick, then why did you come home? Why didn’t you stay with him? According to Google he’s loaded, so that couldn’t have been a problem?” Like a dog with a bone, I knew she wasn’t going to let up with the interrogation till she had all the gory details. But not tonight.

“Miranda, I'm really tired. I have to go now. Let’s catch up next week some time?” I said, hoping she would let it go for now. “I’ll explain then.”

“I’ll let you off the hook for now, because I can hear in your voice that you are really tired. But I can't wait till next week. Lunch tomorrow at the usual place. At noon,” she insisted.

“OK, see you then.” I sighed as I ended the call.

I dreaded having lunch with Miranda the next day. If there was a job title such as ‘extortionist’, Miranda would be top dog. The woman was relentless at asking questions. She knew just how to draw even my deepest, darkest secrets from me, even though I swore to myself I wouldn’t tell her.

Besides, we had been friends since high school; Miranda had been through thick and thin with me. She sometimes knew me better than I knew myself. And although Olivia called her ‘random’, albeit in a loving way, Miranda was the only one who stood by me when everyone else abandoned me.
I trusted the crazy woman with my life – and my secrets.

* * *

“Holy shit, you look like crap!” Miranda said as she pushed to her feet. She didn’t even give me time to apologize for being late before she flung her arms around me, hugging me as if there had been a death in the family. Well, there nearly had been…

“Tell me all about it, I want to know everything,” she demanded before I even had a chance to
take my seat at our regular table at our favorite local café.

“Hi
, Miranda. You look fabulous. So skinny and that gorgeous tan…” I said, trying to buy time. I knew she would drag the whole story out of me, but I was still tender, I needed to do it at my own pace.

“I've already ordered a bottle of red. Here, let me pour you some while you catch your breath
.” She smiled at me over her very trendy new designer glasses.

“Thanks, I'm going to need it
.” I smiled.
More like the whole damn bottle.

Miranda was pretty and
stylish and very much into looking good. She spent an inordinate amount of time and money on maintaining her good looks, resolved that turning ‘the wrong side of forty’ soon would not be her undoing.

So, even if her eyesight was failing, she was determined to look good regardless. She had six very different pairs of prescription glasses. Not only for when she mislaid a pair, but also to mix and match with her very extensive wardrobe and to cater for her different moods. M
y friend was growing old in style and so be it.

Miranda looked at me expectantly. “So, spill!” she ordered, her eyes bright with anticipation.

Might as well get it out of the way. “Gabriel had a heart attack. I came back for him.”

“What the fuck?” Despite her ladylike appearance, Miranda was not beyond swearing. Especially when I threw her a curveball. Her eyes widened as she laid her hand on top of mine. “Is he…dead?” Her face was drawn and
pale, regardless of her artfully applied make-up.

“Oh, no! He’s OK now. But it was a big scare. He nearly didn’t make it. The kids were beside themselves, so I had to get back in the middle of…”
My voice broke.

“Oh. My.
God.” She rested a hand on her chest for a moment as she digested the news. “Hmm…So your husband has a heart attack while you get laid in New York. What rotten luck. For you, Nicholas and the poor bastard, Gabriel.
So what now
?”

Before I could answer, in typical Miranda style, she narrowed her eyes
and pursed her lips. “Gabriel didn’t
plan
it, did he? Having a heart attack just to get you to come back? I wouldn’t put it past him. As soon as he heard you were having sex with someone else, he must have blown a gasket. I bet he faked it. You know how insanely jealous he gets.”

If Gabriel’s heart attack hadn’t been so serious, I may have found her questioning his motives hilarious.

“He nearly died, even Gabriel couldn’t fake that. But it did get me to come back – a lot sooner than I would have liked to.” I swirled my glass and took a big gulp of wine. “And he doesn’t know about Nick, and I haven’t told him yet either.”

“Like hell he doesn’t know about Nick. He’d have to live under a rock. You were in the news, my friend, there are pictures of you with your lover all over the Internet. I’d say
Gabriel knows all about it
.”

“Shit, you’re right. I keep forgetting the world is a global village now. Just because it happened in New York, doesn’t mean it's not news here back home
.” I felt the blood drain from my face and involuntarily shivered. I took an even bigger gulp of wine.

“Yip.” She made quotation marks in the air
. “‘
Evasive Bachelor Nicholas Gallagher Dates Australian Woman and Takes Her to His Hamptons Hide Out for Christmas
’ sold a lot of newspapers worldwide. It's big news, Nat.” It was Miranda’s turn to gulp down the red liquid in her glass, immediately reaching for the bottle to refill our glasses.

“Anyway, how does it work now? I mean, Gabriel moved out
nearly two years ago.”

I cleared my throat and stared into my glass, avoiding eye contact with Miranda. “Well
, actually –”

“What? Don’t tell me –
he’s moving back into
your
house, isn’t he – the house you both used to live in? And
you
are going to take care of him.” Miranda scrunched her eyes as she shook her head in disbelief.

“It's just easier for me this way. The doctor said he needs constant care, someone to look after him. It just naturally became me because Gabe doesn’t have anyone else, not after his parents died. And it's easier if it's at our old house where I can still stick to my normal routine while caring for him. I mean, it would be even more awkward if I had to move into his house, knowing that other women had been there too.”

“Yes, but it's not like you two are getting together again. You’re just helping the poor sod out because you are kind hearted. Most other women would have kicked him to the curb or put him in a nursing home,” she scolded.

“He’s still Gabriel, my husband, even if only on paper. He deserves to be taken care of – even after how he treated me. It's not his fault he stopped loving me.”

Miranda snorted into her glass. She wasn’t buying that. “Like hell. He's an idiot to have left you and now he is fucking up this thing you have with the hottest man on the planet. How is that fair to you?”

“Life isn’t always fair, Miranda,” I said as I pulled a fifty-dollar bill from my wallet
to pay for lunch and rose from the table. I was running late getting to the hospital to fetch Gabriel and take him to my home.

He was still my husband. I owed him this. To take care of him.

“Anyway,
Gabe wants me back
. He wants to start over,” I blurted out as I turned and walked away quickly.

I didn’t want to see
the scowl on Miranda’s face when she worked out what I just said.

Chapter Thirty-two

I forgot to breathe.
Nick was leaning against a pillar, as if he needed the support to keep him upright. God, it was good to see him again!

Even in the large and open reception area of the
Park Hyatt hotel, our eyes locked across the vast space as soon as I walked through the revolving doors. He crossed the distance with long eager strides, his grin growing wider by the second. Like a magnet, he tugged at me, and I had to control myself not to break into a run.

“Natalie.” His voice was low and husky. Just that one word from Nick’s lips had my heart miss a beat and a familiar heat r
ise in my belly.

Unsure
how to behave, I just stood in front of him, smiling up at him like a goof, knotting my hands together to stop them from trembling. My heart expanded as he gave me an easy smile. I
wanted
to throw my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest. I
wanted
to inhale his scent, the one that made my head spin whenever he was close. I
wanted
to feel his warm lips on mine. And above all I wanted to hear him say that it would
all be OK
.

A few
unruly strands of hair had fallen forward over his forehead. I restrained myself from reaching out and pushing them back. Just to touch him again, feel my fingers run through his hair. But even a seemingly innocent gesture like that felt wrong now.

Awkward.

Bloodshot eyes – as if he hadn’t slept in a while – blinked as if he couldn’t believe he was here, that I stood in front of him, within arm’s reach.

“Welcome to Sydney,” I smiled, “and to hot humid weather in January.”

He was wearing beige chino pants and a white button down shirt, revealing only part of his muscular chest. I longed to place my hands there, feel his heartbeat under my fingers. Check that he was really here, in my hometown – to see me.

“How are you doing?” Nick asked, his
gaze never leaving mine as he took a step forward. He reached out for me, then checked himself and dropped his arms by his sides, clenching his fists, before quickly shoving his hands into his pockets as if he couldn’t trust them.

There were so many unspoken words. Shyness crept over me. Had I really made wild passionate love with this gorgeous man only
weeks ago? It seemed like an impossible dream. Yet the memory of his touch, his skin burning on mine, was one my body wasn’t going to forget easily.

“I’m fine. We are
all
fine,” I answered his unasked question. “Olivia is over the initial shock, the two boys are good and Gabriel is recovering fast.” Might as well address the elephant in the room. Gabriel. Technically still my husband and now back in my house and my life.

The barrier between us.

His body tensed. “I see,” he said, pushing his fingers through his hair, his eyes guarded. I watched as a mask slid over his beautiful features, a muscle in his jaw working overtime. We were like two strangers, meeting after a short acquaintance, not sure how to handle the situation.

Was it all my imagination? Surely he wouldn’t fly all this way to see me if he had regrets about our time together. Yet subtly things had changed. I was no longer the tourist. Our holiday romance was over. This was real life. And it sucked.

“I need a drink. Let’s go over to the bar.” He pointed toward the elevator. The lobby of the Park Hyatt hotel was not the best place for a rendezvous with a lover.

My mouth was dry and I trembled slightly, so I nodded my head, not trusting myself to speak.
What’s happened to us?
We were acting like two strangers, stiff and awkward. All I wanted was to throw myself at him, to cover his eyelids and cheeks and lips with soft kisses, to feel his arms tighten around me. Instead we were going through the motions like zombies.

Had it all been a horrible mistake? Is that what he came to tell me? Judging by the grey tone to his skin, I was expecting bad news – but this time directly from
his
lips. At least he had the decency to come all this way to tell me face to face. Nick was an old-fashioned kind of guy. He wouldn’t tell me it was over using an email or text message as was fashionable these days.

But didn’t he
realize seeing him again before saying our final goodbyes was going to kill me? I never really stood a chance, did I? Falling in love a second time was not meant to be. Silly me for wishing for a happy ever after. How juvenile. How naïve.

He steered me
toward the elevator, placing his hand on the small of my back. I shuddered at the sudden touch, his skin burning through the thin fabric of my summer dress. My body still responded to him in ways I could not fathom. God, this was going to be a nightmare.

Just keep calm. You’re a big girl now. You can handle it.

You can cry afterwards.

We rode up the elevator with two other couples. Nick stood beside me, not touching me, his stern gaze on the numbers above the door.
I craved his touch.
Does it really have to end?
Aghast, I lowered my head; I didn’t want him to see my disappointment. At the bar, Nick pulled out a chair for me at a small table in the corner and ordered a bottle of red wine – our favorite. Again he avoided touching me. It didn’t bode well for what was to come. I guess it would be easier this way. I could always go back to Gabriel – fix our marriage. At least that was what Gabriel wanted. It was an option.
Perhaps my only option.

At least I would always have the memories of our time together in New York. Nobody could take that away from me. Not even Nick.

I closed my eyes to brace myself for what was coming.

Please don’t let me be a wimp.

Please let me be strong and walk away with my dignity intact.

Just then delicious warmth spread through me, tingling up my spine. Nick had placed his hand over mine as he whispered hoarsely, “
Open your eyes, Natalie. I need to see you.”

My eyes flew open before I had a chance to even think. Raw emotion shone from his as our souls collided. My eyes melted into his, my longing laid bare before him.

His jaw clenched for a few seconds. I bit my lip so hard I thought it would bleed.

“You can't hide from me, Natalie.” His face was only inches from mine, his breath brushing over my skin like a caress. My heart hammered in my chest.
God, I'm an open book. He’s going to take my heart and crush it.

“Nick, I’m so sorry…for leaving like that. I had to… come home,” I stuttered. My head was swimming, every nerve was on end. “For my family.” I dropped my gaze, afraid he would see the tears burning thickly behind my eyes.

“Did you really think I would – could – let you go so easily? After the way we connected? After waiting for you all my life?” His face contorted with agony, a wry smile twisting his lips. “There is no way I can get you out of my mind. Ever.”

His hand cupped
my chin, raising my gaze to meet his. “Look at me. Your eyes don’t lie. They tell me all I need to know. I came all this way to see your eyes, Natalie. Your eyes are the lens of your soul.”

I
blinked and drew in a sharp breath. “What do you see?” I ventured, my voice cracking.

“Conflict. You are torn between your family, what you think is the right thing to do, and being with me.”

Holy hell. How could he tell all that when even I had never given a voice to my feelings? Conflict tore my insides apart. Between what I yearned for and what I knew was my duty.

“I came to tell you that you have options. That this doesn’t have to tear you apart. You can still love and care for your family the way you want to. But I want to be a part of your life too. Don’t ask me to give
you up. I've never begged for anything in my life, but I beg you now. Don’t give up your soul. Don’t give up on us being together.” His eyes were dark and stormy, quick short breaths bursting from his lips.

Transcending primal lust or simple need,
Nicholas Gallagher had just laid his heart at my feet.