All the Way (12 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Probst

BOOK: All the Way
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He grunted. “Did Helena of Troy say something like that before the Trojan War?”

She linked her fingers through his and leaned in. The sweet scents of fresh berries drifted in the air. Her black crocheted sweater slipped down over one shoulder. He slipped one hand under the strap of her lace camisole and caressed her with a light, teasing touch. A rush of satisfaction hit him at her quick indrawn breath.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He kneaded her neck with firm strokes, then massaged her scalp. She groaned. “Can you be late?”

“This can’t be possible. How can we want each other again so soon? After last night. And this morning. And in the kitchen.”

“We never did get breakfast.”

“You’re turning me into a nympho. I think I’m walking around with a stupid smile on my face 24/7, and Andy’s torturing me.”

He chuckled. “I’m getting the same treatment here.”

She pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ve got to get back to the paper. If I don’t set up another good review, my editor will fire me. I’ve already drafted three columns, and they’re all on take-out Chinese.”

“That’s all we’ve eaten for the last four days.” He glanced down at her plate. “You didn’t touch your lunch.”

Her brow crinkled in frustration. “I know. Probably all that take-out. My stomach’s been queasy lately.”

“Are you getting sick?”

She shrugged. “Probably the beginning of that nasty stomach flu. It’s going around the office.”

“That settles it. I’m putting you to bed early tonight.”

A wicked gleam flashed in jade green eyes. “Do we get to play doctor?”

He grew to full attention at the idea of that scene. “Definitely,” he growled. Gavin grabbed her hand and led her outside the restaurant. “Have some tea to settle your stomach.”

“Darling, I have tea every night.”

“Have some crackers this time, maybe that will help.”

She laughed, but Gavin caught the pale tint to her skin when she passed a tray of steaming garlic pasta. He stepped onto the street. “Maybe you should go home now.”

“I’ll be fine. If I get worse, I’ll just work from home today.”

“Excuse me, I wondered if you can answer a question for us?”

Gavin turned to the two women dressed in expensive business suits by the door. What can I help you with?” he asked.

One woman motioned toward the sign. “Is this place any good? We’re both dying for Italian food, but we heard it got trashed in
The Herald
.”

Miranda stiffened. Gavin kept his voice calm and even. “We had some problems the night the critic visited. I’m the owner of the restaurant, and I can assure you both the food is outstanding.”

They shared a look. Gavin almost groaned. Obviously, they didn’t believe an owner could be impartial, and they were trying to come up with a dignified excuse that would allow them to leave.

“I never listen to critics,” Miranda cut in. “You can’t trust any of them—all they do is make money to eat for free and spout their own inflated opinions.”

Gavin wondered if she was running a fever.

“Did you eat in there?”

She nodded at the woman’s question. “Yep. Food was awesome, best Italian I’ve had in years.”

Obviously the women didn’t recognize her face, though they read her column. “Umm, may I interrupt and say—”

She waved one hand in the air. “Pasta is all homemade, bread is freshly baked, and the eggplant is perfect.”

Both women looked intrigued. “That sounds good. “

“It is. I eat here all the time.”

Gavin wondered if the sun cast that strange tint to her skin, or if she was really turning green. She continued praising his restaurant while the women inched toward the entrance.

“Thanks for the advice. By the way, what did you have for lunch?”

Gavin waited and wondered if she’d admit she only had a salad.

“Garlic pasta,” she said heartily. “It’s one of their specials, you’ll love it. In fact, I think—”

She gripped her stomach and bit down on her lower lip.

Gavin decided she’d turned the same shade the broccoli rabe was the night of her review. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

She gulped in a big breath of air. Her brow knit in concentration as she seemed to will away the waves of sickness.

Gavin guessed the action didn’t work.

She bent over and vomited on the sidewalk.

When Gavin looked up, the two women had hurried down the block and disappeared from sight.


“I’m so sorry.” A shiver seized her body and she buried deeper into the sea green blanket. The soft threads, crocheted by her grandma, soothed her. “I totally screwed up helping you get customers.”

He laughed and laid a damp washcloth across her brow. “Not your fault. But next time I think you should let me do the cajoling. Those women couldn’t run fast enough, even on high heels.”

Miranda giggled, but the cramps in her belly turned it to a half groan. “I know Tim gave this to me. He can only copyedit hunched over my computer, and he’s been out a few days. Bastard.”

“I’ll send him the garlic pasta today by special delivery. That’ll get him.” Gavin plunked the bucket near the couch and squeezed in beside her. “Lay your head on me while you rest.”

“You’ll get sick.”

He eased her back and tucked the edge of the blanket under her chin. “I already had my tongue in your mouth. I’m doomed, anyway.”

She choked out a laugh and her stomach settled. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“I called in the second shift staff to cover for me.”

“Gavin, I’m fine. Go back to work.”

“Who’s going to hold your hair back when you throw up? Isn’t that what good boyfriends do?”

She relaxed into the strength of his arms. When was the last time anyone cared enough to be with her when she was sick? No one. Her dates fled if she wasn’t up for eating or fooling around. This was nice. But he was going to get bored. How long could he just stay on her couch, holding her, while he waited for her to get sick? She roused herself and tried sparkling conversation. “So, what was your favorite place you visited on your travels?”

His chest rumbled. “Baby, I don’t think you care right now. Close your eyes and rest.”

The next wave began and she moaned. “Can’t. Couch is shaking. Go home, Gavin.”

“Not going anywhere.” He grabbed the remote and turned it to an old episode of Seinfeld. “Concentrate on this in the background. I used to do that when I was drunk. Takes away the spins.”

“I’m gonna—”

She flew across the room and made it to the bathroom. When she finally lifted her head, all dignity and pride shriveled and died. She stunk. She looked like crap. She wanted to crawl into a hole and surrender.

He picked her up from the cool white tile, helped wash her face, then pulled her hair back to gather it in a clip. He left for a moment and returned with a T-shirt and sweats, then helped her change. Gavin forced a sip of water down her throat and led her back to the couch.

His solid warmth comforted her in a way she hadn’t experienced since her grandmother held her during the flu. The sickness and emotions whirled together in a rush. “Gavin?”

“What, baby?”

“I’m sorry. About the review.” She tried to gulp a breath. “You were right. I wrote it because I was angry at you and wanted you to hurt. Just like I did when you left me.” She waited a beat, then pushed through the rest. “I wanted to be the one to get the last word for once.”

She waited for his temper. Disappointment. Waited for him to leave.

Instead, he stroked back her hair. “I know. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

Regret choked her throat. “I can’t do another review, either. I—I won’t.”

“Okay.”

His simple acceptance rocked her soul, but another bout of nausea distracted her from analyzing her reaction. She ran back to the bathroom, misery and exhaustion battling for supremacy.

The hours passed. He didn’t leave. Didn’t speak. When the worst of the pain passed, Miranda lay her sweat-drenched head against him and let go.
Seinfeld
turned into
Friends
and
The Big Bang Theory
. Night fell and she slept. When she roused herself to open her eyes and take another sip of water, something deep inside of her shifted and broke open.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled and caressed her cheek. “Welcome.”

She fell back asleep.

Chapter Eight

“Have you guys done it yet?”

Miranda arched one brow and peered over her black-framed glasses in disapproval. Andy leaned against the computer desk and munched on a cannoli. Fresh cream spilled out from a perfectly formed crust, making her fingers clench around her pen. Damn, every time three o’clock hit she got the sugar craving, and she could always count on Andy to stroll past her with some kind of dessert. The awful virus had passed and given her a jump-start on her diet. Why screw it up now? Too many carbs and dessert menus had to go somewhere, and her hips were too meaty. Unfortunately, she wanted to gobble down that rich, Italian pastry more than she wanted to fit in her new size.

“Hmm, my ears must be playing tricks on me. You’d never ask such a tasteless question.”

“Nope, you heard right. You’ve been seeing him for a couple of weeks and still haven’t told me if you did it.” He broke off a piece of buttery crust and popped the wedge in his mouth. Crankiness hit her.

“Did it?” she repeated.

Andy rolled his eyes. “Come on, Miranda, don’t you remember the slang term? Did the nasty. Had sex. Got it on. Need I continue?”

“You’re warped.”

He grinned. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Why is my sex life suddenly so important to you?”

“Dear friend, you haven’t had a sex life for me to get excited about. I’m just trying to make up for lost time.”

She shook her head. “If you and Gavin are such good buddies now, why don’t you ask him?”

Andy shoved the last piece of pastry in his mouth and licked his fingers. “When a man cares about a woman, he keeps his sex life to himself. Common fact. We don’t gossip like women.”

She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “You won’t ask Gavin this question because of a male code of ethics, but it’s okay to ask me?”

“Yep.”

She smiled. “Women have their own code, Andy. Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

“What?”

“We never kiss and tell.”

Andy nodded. “Yep, you guys did it.”

She threw up her hands in defeat. “I’ll never win without Elaine here. Where did you get the cannoli?”

“Gavin brought them over.”

“He was here?”

“Yeah, you had to run out for that quote from the French manager. He couldn’t wait. Something about setting up for the night crowd.”

“That’s right, he has the lounge open on Wednesdays now.”

“How’s business after you trashed the place?”

Miranda glowered at her friend. “Fine. Anyway, my review was perfectly valid.”

“Are you going to do a second review?”

She bit her lower lip. “I never do repeat visits. It’s my motto, remember?”

Andy studied her worried face. “Uh-oh. Let me try to guess this one. You don’t know whether or not to trust your feelings, do you? You’re afraid he might be using you for the review.”

The past week she spent with Gavin flashed before her. Things were changing between them. Fast. The wall carefully built around her emotions was crumbling, and she didn’t know what to do.

He had forgiven her. Somehow, someway, he allowed himself to move past her need for revenge, even though she’d also hurt his family. He never asked for the second review since the night of her illness, as if the issue was closed. How could she fight a man who forgave?

The man she rediscovered held a gentle warmth in his eyes that had never been there before. He listened with a patience and curiosity that told her he wanted to discover her inner soul. He made love to her with an intensity that not only claimed her body, but her heart and her mind. When she’d first met him, all he knew was how to take. Now, he gave himself freely, and she found herself falling in love with him all over again.

This whole episode was supposed to revolve around sex. Moving on. Letting go. Instead, she’d gotten attached all over again, and complicated things with a review and his temporary assignment that would end in a few more weeks. She swore she’d be dignified and adult when they said good-bye. Instead, bubbles of panic rose up in her throat at the thought.

“Hey, Andy!”

They both turned. Richie, one of the staff photographers, motioned toward the door. “Get in here. I need your opinion on this photo to run with your piece.”

“Hope he got something good. Last time he photographed a yoga class for me.”

“Yoga is hot, though.”

“Yeah, but Richie took shots that would’ve massacred my name. Women with their legs up in the air, folded in half with their rears exposed.” He shuddered. “I needed a male in the class to offset the feminine hormones, but there wasn’t a guy in sight. The piece ended up looking like a puzzle of female bits better off in
Cosmopolitan
.”

“What’s this new story?”

“Zumba.”

She laughed. “Good luck with that one, buddy.”

He left, and she spent the next minutes battling with her sugar mania. Could the staff have eaten all of them in an hour? Maybe she’d cut one in half, just for a taste. Her work phone flashed and she picked it up. “Miranda Storme.”

“Did Andy eat all the cannolis?”

His voice rumbled through the receiver and her belly dipped. “Probably. If the Lifestyle and Health department find them, I’m dead. I’m sorry I missed you before.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. We’re short-staffed tonight, and I’ve put some heavy advertising into Wednesday happy hour. I want to make sure everything goes smooth.”

“I understand. How’s the crowd been?”

He paused, and her belly clenched. “Good. There’s been more action since the lounge opened.”

Miranda caught the undercurrent in his statement and knew Mia Casa took a bad hit after her column. She’d seen his full-page ads in The Foodie magazine,
The Herald
, and
Gazette
. He engaged solid marketing tools, tons of money, but an important element was missing. The endorsement of a big name in the food industry.

Instead, she’d mucked up the reputation he tried to rebuild.

Guilt ate at her. Sure, it was an honest review, and she’d followed the rules, but she didn’t want to hurt his family. What was she going to do? Break her code and write a second review? What if someone dug deeper and realized they were sleeping together? Her professional reputation may be questioned, and everything she worked so hard for.

“Are you okay? You got quiet.”

She re-focused on the conversation. “I’m fine. Gavin, do men have certain codes?”

“Yeah, one.”

“What is it?”

“No cheating at poker.”

She made a note to tell Andy he was a liar. “I thought so.”

“Oh, and never ask another man about his sex life if he has feelings for the woman.”

“Damn.”

“What’s the matter?”

She sighed. “Nothing. Just thinking about the cannolis. I know they’re all gone.”

He dropped his voice to a sexy whisper. “Open your top drawer.”

“Does this have to do with anything sexual?” she asked.

“Do it.”

She slid the drawer open. One perfect pastry sat atop a snowy white napkin. Fat chocolate chips peeked out from under fresh cream. She shook with excitement. “Oh, Gavin.”

“I’ll be waiting to be thanked properly later.”

“It’s beautiful. It’s perfect, it’s even better than Andy’s.”

He sighed. “I knew I’d never compete with an Italian pastry.”

“I’ll wait up for you tonight and show you how grateful I really—” she broke off as Andy raced through the door and stopped at her desk. Her fingers tightened around the receiver at the look of raw fear on his features. “Hold on for a second. Andy, what’s the matter?”

Andy took a ragged breath. “Elaine called. Stephen was taken to the hospital. He hit his head and he has—he has a concussion. I’ve got to get over there.”

“Do you want me to stay with Laura?”

“No, she’s at a girlfriend’s house.”

“I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Emergency room.”

She looked her friend in the eye. “He’s going to be okay.”

He shuddered. “Right. Meet you there.”

She closed her eyes to fight the panic and spoke into the receiver. “Andy got a call that Stephen was rushed to the hospital. He fell and has a concussion.”

“God, he’s just a little kid.”

“I know. I’m going over there now.”

Silence settled over the line. “I’ll pick you up and we’ll drive together. Stay put.”

“No. You already told me you’re short-staffed, and besides, I’m fine. I can handle the situation.”

“I know you can, Red. But I’m coming anyway.”

“No. I’ll call you from the hospital with an update. I don’t want to argue about this.”

“I agree. I’m on my way.”

The phone clicked.


Miranda gratefully reached for the cup of hot coffee and took a sip. Gavin settled into the seat next to her and cradled his own cup in his hands. “Any news?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Elaine said the next twenty-four hours are the most critical. The doctors have to watch him carefully. They’re in with him now but I told them we’d wait a little longer.” Miranda pushed back the loose strands of hair that escaped her topknot and rubbed her temple. “He’s so young. What will they do if he—”

“He won’t. Thoughts like that only make things worse.”

She shook herself out of her trance and raised her chin. His words cut through the haze of fear that temporarily overwhelmed her. Images of another hospital visit, alone, taunted her. “You’re right. I’m being selfish and stupid by talking like this. I’m here to help.”

His face softened. “You couldn’t be selfish or stupid if you tried, Red. We’ve been here for hours. It’s normal to get edgy.”

She placed the cup down and entwined her hands with his. The warm, muscled strength of his fingers seeped into her skin and melted some of the chill. “Who’s running the restaurant?”

“Brando and Pop. They’re fully capable.”

“You didn’t have to come. It’s not like you know Andy and Elaine that well. I could have called with updates.”

HIs eyes burned blue-gray fire. “Andy let me into his home and allowed me to babysit his son. Now his son is in danger, and if I can do anything to help, then my time here was worth it.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“And I came for you. You love him, and you’re so stubborn you’d never admit you need support.”

“I’m not stubborn.”

“You are. Business goes on every day, Miranda, but people are the most important.”

She didn’t get a chance to answer. Elaine and Andy came into the waiting area and she rose to meet them. “How is he?”

Elaine blinked away tears. “The doctors had to give him ten stitches. He’s complaining about dizziness, so they’re keeping overnight for observation.”

Miranda put her arm around Elaine. Flashes of leaving the hospital with nothing but a hole in her gut danced in her vision. This wasn’t about her. She never had to go through such a heart-wrenching experience again, and damned if she was going to start crying now. She stiffened her muscles against the assault, and the box of emotions held tight. Gavin glanced at her oddly but eased away to give her space. “He’s going to be fine.”

Elaine nodded jerkily and wiped her eyes. “Yes. Damn, I just feel so guilty. I was in the other room when I heard the crash. He’d climbed on top of the cabinet and hit the table when he fell. I should have watched him closer.”

Miranda shook her head. “No, you’re one of the best mothers I know. It was an accident, and these things happen with children. It’s not your fault.”

They stood in silence and watched Andy and Gavin from across the room. The two men seemed deep in conversation. Elaine spoke in a small voice. “When I first found out I was pregnant with Laura, I was scared out of my mind. I never intended on having a baby. I wanted to have a good time with my husband, travel, build my career.”

Miranda smiled. “I bet you changed your mind.”

“Not right away. It took me months to get adjusted to the idea of having a child, and even then I wasn’t sure if I made the right decision. When I held her in my arms and looked into her face, I knew we’d created a miracle. Imagine that, Miranda. A little person who is half you and half the man you love.”

A wave of pain burst over her and left her choked for breath. She bit her lip hard and hung on.

“With Stephen, I was able to embrace my pregnancy because I was less afraid.”

“Children will do that,” she said. “You focus so much on giving them everything you need, you forget to be afraid.”

“Except times like this. Right now, I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life. Children will give you the greatest joy you can experience, but at the same time, they rip out your heart and cause you the greatest pain.”

Miranda watched Gavin give Andy a hug. “Yes, I can imagine they do.”

She muttered an excuse about needing the water fountain and moved away. God, she needed some distance. The sound and scents of the hospital opened up raw wounds not yet healed. She edged down the hall and focused on the television hung on the wall in the waiting area. Spongebob Squarepants cackled and flipped crabby patties across the screen.

Strong arms slipped around her waist and pulled her against his chest. The top of Gavin’s chin rested lightly on her head. “What are you thinking about?”

Miranda sighed and leaned more heavily into his muscled warmth. A strange emptiness filled her. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying, I can tell.”

She arched one brow. “How?”

“You can’t look me in the eye.”

“Darling, I’m not facing you at the moment. It’s physically impossible to look you in the eye.”

“See, my point exactly. What were you and Elaine talking about?”

“What were you and Andy talking about?”

He let out his breath in a soft whoosh. “Even utterly exhausted you always have to challenge me. Ok, I’ll give in first. We were talking about kids.”

She stiffened. “I see. What did you discuss?”

“The way they change a person’s life.” He paused. “Don’t you agree?”

Her chest tightened. “I guess. Want another cup of coffee?”

“No.”

“I’ll get one.”

“You put it back up again, didn’t you?”

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