April's Promise (Forever Love Series) (13 page)

As they
went by April's bedroom, he tossed her jacket inside over the chair then
rejoined her.  "She and Beverly had a little tiff and she started crying
so it was a good excuse to ask Debra to leave.  I told her I had to put Stephie
down for a nap."

"You
asked her to leave?"

He
stopped in the middle of the hall and took April by the shoulders. 
"You're one exasperating woman.  I didn't want her here in the first
place."

April
had the grace to look embarrassed.  "Okay, I'm sorry."

"There's
nothing to be sorry about.  You just had a parallel reaction to how I felt
about Nicholas."

To his
surprise, April didn't protest.  She didn't contradict him and say she wasn't
jealous.  Maybe that was progress.  Maybe they were finally being honest with
each other.

As they
walked through his bedroom to the bathroom, he spied April looking around. 
When her gaze fell on the photo of him and Vanessa and Stephie that was on his
dresser, she looked away.  Too difficult to think about Vanessa's death?  Too
difficult to think about him and Vanessa and Stephie as a family?  Too
difficult to think about their kisses, what they'd shared and what she'd given
up? 

Maybe
later he'd get the answers to those questions and others, too.

At his
bathroom, he went in ahead of her, pulled the black enamel bench away from the
vanity and pointed to it.

But, of
course, she protested.  "If you just get everything out, I can do it
myself."

"I'll
get everything out, but I'll do it to make sure you've cleaned the scrapes
well.  Believe me, if you do it yourself, it will hurt more."

"You
know this from experience?"

"I've
had sports injuries."

"Recently?"

"Nicholas
and I go at it pretty hard sometimes.  I've ended up in the emergency room on
occasion and so has he."

"Bonding
time," she said with a straight face.

He
chuckled.  "Women go shopping.  Men play sports."

"Some
women go shopping.  Others…have lunch, watch a movie, or just share a glass of
wine."

He
turned to the long, floor to ceiling cabinet beside the shower.  "Do you
have good friends in Boston?"

Supplies
in his hands when he turned around, he saw her watching him.  He put everything
on the sink and turned on the spigot.

"Yes,
I have good friends, some married, some not.   Charlene and Emma are probably
my best friends.  Charlene is married.  Emma isn't.  Why are you asking?"

"Because
I really don't know much about your life, and because—  I don't think Vanessa
had friends she could confide in.  She worked a lot of hours and that didn't
leave much time for friendships, I guess."

"That's
silly, Gabe.  There's always time for friends."

He
shrugged.  "She liked parties.  You know that.  It seemed she liked to be
with groups of people rather than with one or two at a time.  Wouldn't you say
that was true?"

April
looked away for a moment, and then she shrugged.  "Yes, I think that was
true.  She was a party girl."

Gabe
put his knuckle under her chin and lifted her face so she'd meet his eyes. 
"And you're not?"

"No,
I'm not."

Taking
a clean washcloth, he ran it under warm water, wrung it out, then laid it
gently over the worst of April's scrapes and cuts.

"That
hurts," she murmured.

"I
know, but it will help prepare you for what comes next."

"You're
going to give me a bullet to bite on?"

"I
can give you a towel to bite.  This isn't going to be pleasant.  Not when I
scrub it."

"Just
do it.  Let's get it over with."

So they
did.  But when Gabe was finished with the warm water and the soap, with the
rinsing and the antiseptic and the bandaging, April was pale.

"You're
not going to pass out on me, are you?"

"No,"
she snapped, then in a gentler voice, she added, "But I do think I'll lie
on my bed for a while.  That is, if you don't need me for anything else."

Need
her for something else.  Oh, yes, he did.  His bathroom wasn't too small, but
it wasn't large, either.  Being this close to her, touching her as he had,
taking care of her had easily aroused him.  April easily aroused him.  He'd fought
old feelings for her up until this visit.  He'd fought the chemistry between
them up until this visit.  Now, he wanted to give into it and see where it took
them.  But he wasn't going to take advantage of this situation.  He wouldn't
take advantage of April while she was hurting.

She
stood and gingerly took a step forward.  He could tell by the expression on her
face that her leg certainly didn't feel better.

"I'll
get that ibuprofen," he muttered.

****

It was
almost two a.m. when Gabe finally gave up the battle of tossing and turning and
trying to go to sleep.  His mind just wouldn't shut down.  His evening with
April and Stephie had been spent quietly.  Fortunately, they'd had left-overs
for supper so food preparation hadn't been a big deal.  He'd insisted on
cleaning up and April hadn't argued.  That was a first.  Afterward, they'd
played board games with Stephie and put puzzles together.  That way, April
didn't have to move around so much.  He'd caught a grateful glance more than
once.  Those grateful glances did funny things to his heart rate.  Either that,
or he'd had too much caffeine at supper.

Sure,
blame it on the caffeine.

He
threw off the covers and stood by the side of the bed.  Those brownies Debra
had brought over were still downstairs.  One of them probably wasn't much
better than another cup of coffee, but at least he'd enjoy it, at least he
wouldn't be thinking about April not so far down the hall lying alone in her
bed.

However,
once downstairs, he thought about April upstairs.  The brownie tasted dry in
his mouth and chocolate didn't seem a solution to anything.  Maybe he'd just go
back upstairs and read until he fell asleep.

He'd
left the light on in his bedroom, but hadn't turned on the hall lamp.  He knew
every inch of this house by heart.  Ambient light from the moon shone through
the skylight in the hall.  He was just climbing the stairs when the door to
April's room opened and she stepped into the hall.  She was wearing a pale pink
nightgown that stopped halfway down her thighs.  It was silky with little cap
sleeves and a boat neck.  It slid to one side now.

He
heard a small gasp when she saw him.

"Gabe."

"Can't
sleep?" he asked, his voice husky.  "Do you need more ice?  I'll go
get it."

"No,
no more ice.  It hurts.  I'm restless.  When I turn over, my leg brushes the
sheets."

 "Tomorrow
I'll get some of those patches with the antibiotic right on the patch.  It will
be easier for you to change the dressing."

"I
was just going to get a glass of water."

But she
wasn't moving toward the bathroom.  She was standing perfectly still, staring
at him.  Well, staring at his chest that was bare.  He could practically feel
her eyes passing down his chest, straight down the middle, down to the low ride
of his jogging shorts, further—

She saw
immediately what her perusal had done and her gaze slipped back up to his. 
Denying anything would be stupid.  He wasn't going to deny this attraction to
her, not anymore.  He climbed the remaining few steps and approached her.

"What
do you need, April?  Someone to sing you a lullaby?"

"I
don't need anything.  I'll just grab another pill."

He
clasped her elbow.  "Do you think a pill is going to help?"

They
were speaking in implied words and underlying messages.  It was time they got
plain about it.  "I can give you something to take your mind off the
pain."

"Something
more than ibuprofen?"

"Not
a controlled substance.  Something much better, though I've heard kissing can
be addictive."

He
leaned toward her and bent his head.  There was no doubt as to what he was
going to do.  She could have backed away.  She could have said no.  She could
have put her hands against his chest so their bodies wouldn't touch.  But she
didn't do any of those things.  She just stood there and waited.

That
was the loudest and most graphic signal.  Her acquiescence told him she wanted
his kiss.  When her arms banded around him, he brought her tighter against
him.  She lifted her lips to his and he took advantage of the invitation.  This
kiss wasn't going to be hurried or quick.  This kiss was going to tell him
things he wanted to know.  This kiss was going to answer some of the questions
he had.

This
kiss.

He knew
his arms were possessive.  He knew his mouth was claiming.  He knew his tongue
was seductive.  Everything about this kiss was intent on seduction.

Although
he was lost in kissing her, he was mindful of her leg and careful when he swept
her up into his arms.

"Gabe,"
her voice held a question and a bit of wonder.

"I'm
taking you to my room."  The underlying message there was clear. 
"Speak now if you don't want me to."

She
didn't say anything.  She just held on as if she wanted this as much as he did.

The
room wasn't very far away, yet it seemed like it was.  "Are you
hurting?"

"Not
when you're kissing me," she teased.

Her
flirty response almost made him groan.  It was another assent that she wanted
this as much as he did.

In his
bedroom, he gently laid her on the bed, but she kept her arms around his neck
as if she didn't want to let go.  He knew the feeling.  Now that they had physical
contact, now that they knew they were going to do this, he didn't want to leave
her for a moment.

Sitting
beside her on the huge bed, he kissed her again and again and again.  Finally
they broke for air and April slid over.  He quickly pulled off his shorts and
joined her.

Turning
to her, he ran his hand over the slinky fabric of her nightgown, caressing
every curve underneath.  Although he desperately wanted to join their bodies,
he found he wanted intimacy with her almost as much.

"What
happened when you fell today?  Were you crossing the street?"

"Just
running.  Going too fast for the conditions."

"The
pavement was dry."

"The
leaves were wet," she reminded him.

"You're
a focused runner," he said, remembering.  "Where was your head?"

She
went silent and he understood there was a reason she didn't want to tell him.  Because
it would reveal too much about what she'd been feeling?  Or something else. 
Maybe she and Winnifred had had a disagreement.

"Did
you and your mom fight?"

"We
don't fight.  We have unilateral discussions.  But, no, nothing like that.  In
fact…during this visit, she's told me some things about her marriage that I'd
never known."

"Like?"
he prompted, thinking maybe this was the root of why April had fallen.

"It's
not important."

He caressed
her cheek and lifted her chin.  "Don't lie to me."

"I'm
not."  Her denial was more vehement than it should have been, and he
wondered what that was coming from.  But he waited, not wanting to push her.

"Mother
admitted Dad had had multiple affairs.  That wasn't a secret.  Vanessa and I
both had known about a few of them.  It wasn't the quantity that bothered me,
it was the way Mother had thought about it.  As long as it was just sex he was
after, she could live with it.  But when one of the affairs turned serious,
then she couldn't.  That's when she divorced him."

 "That's
kind of a perverted look at marriage, isn't it?  Aren't sex and everyday life
supposed to go together?" he asked, glimpsing a deeper look into April and
Vanessa's backgrounds.

"That's
essentially how I responded, and she said I was naïve.  She said that mothers
sometimes have to do what they have to do, for whatever's best for their kids. 
She felt staying, having an opulent roof over our heads, being able to pay for
the best schools, the luxury of never having to worry about money, was best for
all of us.  I don't know, Gabe.  Do men look at it the same way?  Would a man
stay together for finances?  To keep his family from falling apart?"

But as
soon as April asked the question, she looked as if she wished she hadn't.

"There
are some women who wouldn't stay past one affair," he said.  "Your
mother's generation is different from ours.  Their thoughts on the subject are
different, too."

"But
she took us to church every Sunday.  We know vows are meant to be kept.  Isn't
black black?  Isn't white white?  Or do you mix it into gray to sort it into
your own needs?  I want to believe in more than everybody being selfish."