Authors: Kelly Moran
Ian
O
ut of the corner of my eye, I caught Matt walking across the beach toward his house, back rigid and his stride long. She’d sent him away? She’d...ended it with him? My pulse beat thready, building an erratic rhythm.
All day I’d been kicking myself, trapped in a wretched state of pissed off and hurt. She’d bailed on me this morning, had gone right to Matt, and nothing had wreaked agony quite like her rejection. A two hour ride on Dad’s Harley hadn’t cut through the pain. Our confrontation in the driveway only added to the mix. It was as if she’d been...amputated from my life.
But Matt was leaving.
I glanced at Rick, who had seen it, too. Rick nodded, his gaze understanding. “Ian, go check on Summer, will you? I don’t think she’s feeling well. I’ll take Jenny home.”
Fireworks exploded over us, sending shocks of light across the water. The start of the finale boomed, matching my heartbeat. Leaving my friends on the sand, I jogged to the house and ran up the stairs, into our bedroom.
Out of breath, I scanned the dim room, searching for her through the flashes of red and blue. She sat in a chair by the window, her knees curled up to her chest, watching the sky. Shoulders slumped, unblinking, she didn’t acknowledge me.
An oh-shit sensation clutched my airway. Everything about her radiated dark, that she’d slipped back into the shadows where even I might not be able to reach her. My worst fear come to life—that her depression had sunk its claws in.
“Matt went home,” she said softly. Too softly. Her gaze trained on the sky, she didn’t look at me.
Thoroughbred horses ran through my chest, trampled organs. “I saw him leave.”
Her hand went to her arm and began rubbing absently. “He’s heading back to Greensboro.”
I walked closer as she spoke, worry and fear taking on a new name. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, but dry. I knelt in front of her and had no choice but to wonder if I’d taken him away from her. She’d made her choice to be with me, but if she thought it was a mistake, I’d fix it. It would kill me, but I’d do it. “Is he what you want?”
She turned her head, finally looking at me, but there was nothing in her eyes. She’d checked out. “I’m sorry about this morning. You asked me earlier what I was sorry about. It’s not last night. I had to fix things with Matt before...”
Expelling a breath, I tried not to hope. “Before what, sweetheart?”
She stared at her hand, fingers in a tight fist. “I told him about what happened last night. He got mad, but then he gave me this and said he wouldn’t hurt me, that I’d never have to wonder if....”
I looked at the engagement ring in her palm, my world completely off its axis. The room spun and my breath stalled and I swear my heart stopped cold. My jaw was clenched so tight I thought my molars might crack. “Wouldn’t have to wonder about what?” I barely choked out the words. She hadn’t put the ring on, but had she said yes?
Her gaze lifted to mine, wet and pleading. “Wouldn’t have to wonder if I was enough.”
What in the hell did that mean? Surely that couldn’t possibly be a concern for her. But as I looked into her halt-the-world blue eyes, searched her expression and dug below the surface, my heart cracked right in two. She bit her quivering lip, lashes wet and chest not moving air.
“Why would you ever think you’re not enough?” She tried to look away, but I cupped her jaw and gently turned her head back to face me. “Why?”
Her chest expanded with a slow inhalation. “Because you never settle. You lose interest and—“
“Twenty-eight years of friendship and I haven’t been bored yet.” I paused, debating my next statement. “I’ve wanted you in my arms for half that time, and my interest hasn’t begun to fade.” She gasped, and it hit me, really hit me what was going on inside her pretty head. “It’s not me you don’t trust. You don’t fully engage your heart in relationships, too scared to open up and love someone because they might leave. It’s all you’ve ever known, and I get that, I do. But look at me. I’m here.”
Her gaze took a slow exploration of my face, as if picking apart my words and dissecting them for meaning. She was considering that ring in her hand and a marriage proposal from a guy who gave her no passion, just the safety net. I couldn’t even blame her. Her dad was dead, her mom had abandoned her, she had no other family to speak of, and all her previous relationships had tanked, proving to her she was easy to leave behind.
I wasn’t them, but I wasn’t sure she got that, would take the risk, because I was all she had and that would be enough to keep her walls erected. “What did you tell him?” I jerked my chin to her hand. It didn’t even suit her, the ring. She wasn’t flashy and ostentatious. She was simple elegance and beauty.
She looked down, her fingers trembling. “He told me to think about it. He’s coming to Charlotte in two weeks to find out what I want.”
So I had two weeks to prove to her I was the better choice. Love over contentment. Substance over safety. Even I wasn’t so sure I could break through, but she was worth the effort. Worth everything.
“I won’t ever leave you.”
Her brow wrinkled, and she shook her head, expression still dazed. Like kindergarten, this was going to be about show and tell, I guessed. Carefully, I unfolded her fingers from the ring and set it in the box on the windowsill, closing the lid with a decisive snap.
I rose to my feet and held out my hand. “You’re tired. Come on.”
Walking her to the bed, I stopped her by the edge with a gentle hand on her shoulder. I undressed her slowly and slipped a tee over her head. Encouraging her to lie down, I undressed, leaving on my briefs, and climbed in after her. The twin bed ensured we’d stay wrapped up together through the night. I wanted her, but she’d had a trying night, and knowing her, she needed to be held. I pulled her back to my front and spooned her, breathing in her lilac scent.
“Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
After a few minutes, she relaxed against me and her breathing evened out. I lay there, holding her, and hoped to hell I could breach her walls. I planned and plotted but, in the end, I thought doing what I’ve always done was the best course, adding the intimacy we had to the mix.
My cell vibrated from the nightstand where I’d left it. Without checking the screen, I answered, not wanting to wake her. “Yeah?”
“Is that any way to answer the phone?”
I grinned. “Hi, Mama.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“Summer is sleeping.”
“Gotcha.”
My grin widened. “Why are you whispering now?”
She laughed. “I don’t know. Anyway, I was calling to tell you we’re heading home. I wanted to spend some time with you and my surrogate daughter while you were still at the beach house.”
I knew that was coming. “Okay. Where are you?” I checked the nightstand clock, surprised it was only eleven-thirty.
“On 85. Your daddy drives like a drunk mule. We should be there by morning.”
Trying my best not to laugh and wake Summer, I bit my tongue. “Be safe. Love you.”
Summer stirred as I set the phone aside. She rotated in my arms to face me, her long lashes lifting. Her gaze met mine, unblinking, soft.
“The parental units are on their way home. They’ll be here in the morning.”
She smiled and my heart puttered. “You’d better go back to your bed, then.”
Slowly, I shook my head, telling her I was all-in. If we got outed by my folks, so be it. I wanted them to know. “Not on your life.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Leaning closer, she brushed her nose against mine. Her breath teased my mouth. “Ian?”
She didn’t need to ask. I pressed my lips to hers and kissed her, not with heat, but something deeper. I wasn’t going to take it any farther than a kiss. She needed to understand that’s not all this was, so I explored her mouth and told her I cared with my own. Sex with her had been beyond my expectations, but tonight wasn’t about passion, it was about building trust.
Nearing the point of no return, I eased away and rested my cheek on her forehead. “Goodnight.”
Summer
I
an’s mama came out to join me on the porch swing after supper and handed me a glass of sweet tea. I took it as she sat next to me, setting the swing in motion. I traced the condensation on the glass with my finger and stared at the yard. The air was humid and sticky, but now that the sun had set, it was comfortable. A slight breeze wafted off the water on the other side of the house, scented with brine. Crickets chirped in the long grass and the rustle of palm leaves crackled. Perfection.
Ruth looked at me over the lip of her glass as she drank. “So, you and Ian, eh?”
I offered a short, breathy laugh, still a little shocked myself. His parents had arrived late this morning. After they’d gotten settled and we’d sat down for lunch, Ian had flagged their attention, said he had something to tell them, and kissed me in front of everyone. Ian never did anything half-assed, that’s for sure. Dee had clapped, Rick had shaken his head with a grin, and Ian’s folks had spent the rest of the day teetering between glee and concern. I always got the impression they’d hoped we would date but, after all this time, they probably had more questions than I did.
“Yeah,” I said, as if that was an adequate enough answer.
The whole thing was a kaleidoscope of crazy. Ian had run hot and cold most of the day yesterday, and then some kind of resignation had set in and he seemed determined to prove everything Matt had said was wrong. The fact Ian had never committed to a woman or had any idea what went into a relationship made me wonder if this wasn’t a pissing contest for him. And Matt’s proposal still hung in the air, dangling between us.
Ruth patted my knee. “I wondered when you two would catch up. The rest of us already knew this day would come.”
I sighed, irritation itching under my skin. Seemed the whole world saw something I hadn’t, and it made me feel like that teased kid in school not in on the joke. Did no one get all there was to lose if this went south? Had no one paid attention to Ian’s dating history?
“You know, Ian’s daddy and I were best friends growing up. Tom, too.”
My gaze jerked to hers. I knew they’d grown up together, and the similarities between them and me with my boys was uncanny, but I wondered where she was going with this.
Ruth glanced at the yard, her gaze lost in the past. “Sharon came along later. She was this wild, carefree thing and I worried for Tom. Mark and I had it easy. We became sweethearts in high school, and I worried about how dating might change things, but once I let go, the rest is history. Falling in love with your best friend...” She shook her head and smiled at me. “There’s no stronger bond than that.”
I looked away, understanding. Doubt still niggled in my mind. There were similarities, sure, but a world of difference, too. Mark and Ruth falling in love young hadn’t allowed insecurities to seep in, hadn’t put years in between to wonder about the romantic foundation versus the friendship. Mark seemed to always know what he wanted and went after it. Ian just recently decided to test the waters, which made me question the validity.
Ruth took a sip of her tea. “Your daddy and Sharon were different. She swept in and he was a goner. They’d dated on and off so many times I couldn’t keep track. All he wanted was her, and she was a leaf in the wind.”
She turned on the swing to face me fully. “Her leaving, it wasn’t your fault. I think even Tom saw it coming, but he was too in love with her to care.”
I nodded, thinking about the picture I’d found at Matt’s. “Did she ever come back?”
Ruth’s shoulders lifted as she drew in air, as if preparing herself. “Once, when you were about three. I warned Tom it was a bad move, but he wanted to give her the chance to know you. And he never got over her, so I’m sure there was hope she’d want to stay. They took you to Ashville, in the mountains, for a vacation.” Her smile fell. “A week after you got back, Sharon left. Tom told her that was it. If she left this time, she couldn’t come back. That he loved her, but he loved you more.”
A sob ripped from my chest before I could stop it. Hot tears burned my eyes and fell down my cheeks.
Ruth took the glass from me and set it aside as I covered my face. She pulled me into her arms like she’d done so many times when I was a child and held me. The swing rocked and the breeze blew and I cried. For my daddy, who gave up true love to raise me right, who wound up alone for his efforts. For my mother, who I wasn’t worth enough for her to sacrifice her free ways, who’d never wanted me. Daddy had never been bitter with me or made Sharon out to be a monster. He’d woven wistful excuses about her absence and had done everything in his power to make up for the hole. It was unfair that I’d cost him love, and instead of hating me, resenting me for it, he’d loved me with all he had. I missed him so damn bad.