Crossing Paths (21 page)

After dinner, I help June clear the table. As we’re about to leave, I’m sad because I can only give Liam a simple wave good-bye, but then June rushes past me, saying she has to go to the bathroom.

Once she’s out of sight, Liam gives me a sneaky grin before he pulls me by the elbow, guiding me to their guest room that’s just past the living room. We walk in, and he closes the door behind us. Backing me up to the door, he presses his body against mine.

“Well, this is a familiar position,” I say, giggling softly. “Will you always end up leaning me against doors in your parents’ house?”

“We won’t always be at my parents’ house, but doors aren’t such a bad thing, are they?” he asks with a look full of desire.

I begin to speak, but then his hips push into my body, halting my voice. His lips cover mine before I can find words. My hands travel up his arms and into his hair. I tug gently as his tongue caresses mine, and he moans into my mouth. I feel one of his hands slide slowly down my side, and his fingers slip under my shirt to touch the bare skin of my back just above my waist.

“Caroline?” June calls from behind the door. “Mom, have you seen Caroline?”

“Ugh,” I sigh, blowing my hair out of my eyes as I look up at Liam.

“It’s alright.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?”

“Actually, I have plans already. Maybe later in the week?”

“Sure,” he says, backing away.

“I’ll call you.”

Cracking open the door, I peek around, and I don’t see anyone close by. I slip out and close the door behind me. As I walk into the foyer, I find June with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey,” I say, smiling.

“There you are. What the crap?”

“I just stepped out the back door for a little fresh air. Sorry.”

“You ready?”

“If you are,” I say, still smiling.

Monday

Although the weekend turned out okay, I’m still a little worried about what my brother will have to say at dinner tonight. I’m busy all day with a new client project, so when five o’clock rolls around, I’m not even near ready. I pick up my phone and send a quick text to him.

Running late. Where do you want to eat? I’ll be at least another 45 minutes. —Caroline

No problem. Why don’t we meet at that
same diner? —Cohen

Sounds good. See you soon. —Caroline

Entering the restaurant almost an hour later, I scan the seating areas. He is sitting in a corner booth at the back, looking over the menu. I walk up to the table without him noticing.

“Hi.”

“Oh, Care. Hey. Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”

“You look horrible.”

“Gee, thanks.” He rolls his eyes and then looks back at the menu.

“Well, you do. When was the last time you showered and shaved?” I ask matter-of-factly.

He ignores my question.

My brother’s messy brown hair is in full bed-head style. It’s like he wore a hat all day, took it off, ran through a wind tunnel, and then tried to tame his locks by letting a bird nest in it. I know it sounds bad, but it really is that bad. His color is pale compared to his usual olive skin tone, and he has dark purple circles under his eyes.

A waitress comes to the table and takes our orders. I get a soup and salad with an iced tea, and Cohen gets water and a grilled cheese sandwich.

“That’s seriously all you’re getting?” I ask.

“I’m not that hungry,” he says, staring at the table.

“Okay, spill it. What’s going on?”

Cohen looks up, and when his eyes meet mine, I can see they are troubled and scared.

“Listen…I don’t know. It’s all so complicated. I went home because Julie’s parents were worried about her. She hasn’t been doing well lately, but she seems okay right now. It’s hard to say what’s going to happen. Mom and Dad say I should move on, but it’s not that easy.”

I am, from that instant forward, in caring sister mode. “I’m so sorry, Cohen. I know it has to be hard.”

“It is, and meeting June on top of it all has me crazy in my head. I don’t know what to do. I know I should have called June after I got to Seattle, but how was I supposed to do that while sitting around with our family? I know I need to tell her.”

“Yes, you do.” I pause, taking in my brother’s frailty. “But I understand. You need to give June some credit though. She’ll get it. Have you talked to her?”

“I texted her yesterday. She agreed to have dinner with me tomorrow.”

“Well, that explains her attitude improvement last night.” I laugh. “She’s got a lot on her plate with work right now, so she doesn’t need to worry about you. I think you need to be honest with her.”

He places his face in his hands. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“I don’t mean to be harsh, but you better get ready. I won’t lie to her forever.”

The waitress shows up with our food, and we take some time to eat in silence. My heart breaks for the tattered version of my brother sitting in front of me. I don’t want to feel this way, but I wish things with Julie could just be over, so he could move on without guilt and regret.

Cohen sighs. “I’ll be here until the end of the week. Do you think we can try and get together again before I leave?”

“Sure, if you promise to wash your hair next time,” I say as I reach over and tousle his hair.

He smiles as he reaches up to push my hand off of his head. “Ha. Ha. You’re so funny. I’ll call you on Wednesday or Thursday.”

At least I got one smile out of him.

We walk to the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, and after a quick hug, we head our separate ways.

Tuesday

I’m not sure why I did it, but I got up two hours early, took an extra long shower, made sure my hair cooperated, and put on my good makeup.
Okay, that’s a lie.
I know exactly why I put so much effort into getting ready. Today, I am supposed to see Cohen. Not only am I supposed to see Cohen, but we also have plans to go out to dinner. Once again, I’m unsure about what he wants to discuss, but this time, I’m trying not to make any assumptions. Also on the agenda, I hope to not injure him or myself while we’re spending time together.

I walk into the office with my chin up and a big smile on my face. If he is already here, I want to look like I’ve been fine. I sure as hell don’t want him thinking that I’ve been moping around and pining away for him since last Friday morning. Making my way through the maze of cubicles toward my office, I see no sign of him. I let out a sigh as I step through my door. I place my workbag next to the desk, and I turn to glance at the clock.

Something moves in my peripheral vision. It scares me enough to make me jump back, causing me to fall into my large potted plant-tree-thing in the corner. To avoid hitting the ground, I sit cockeyed in the pot. My face is covered in limbs and large green leaves. Peeking through the human-eating plant, I can see Cohen sitting on the comfortable sofa with one hand held over his mouth. I don’t hear any sounds, but from the looks of it, he’s laughing. For some reason, my usual standoffish self takes a holiday. I launch myself up from my seat in the pot holding the plant, and I take brisk steps toward him.

“What are you doing in my office? Do you enjoy scaring the crap out of women and causing near catastrophes? Or is it just when you see me?”

His eyes grow wide, and those sexy wrinkles beside his eyes fade.
Thank God.
I don’t think I could hold on to my angry attitude if he kept smiling.

“Mr. Hargrove wanted me to tell you that we’ll be meeting in the conference room at eight thirty. I have to leave by the end of the week, so we need to get started on the rest of our project. I came to tell you, but you weren’t here yet, so I made myself comfortable. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Right. Okay. Well, you can go now. I’ll see you at the meeting,” I say, turning toward my desk.

With my shoulders back and head held high, I walk over to my desk chair and sit. Looking back at Cohen, I give him the meanest stare I can muster.

“See you there.” He stands to leave, but then hesitates as if he wants to say something else. His mouth is open, but then he bites down on his bottom lip, holding back.

“Did you need something else?”

“Actually, I was just going to tell you that unless you enjoy the feel of sitting on bark, you should probably find a mirror and wipe off your skirt.”

You have got to be kidding me!

He walks out of the office with the wrinkles by his eyes reappearing. I storm to the door and then quietly close it because I’m at work, and slamming doors here is inappropriate. Turning around and looking over my shoulder, I take stock of the damage to my rear end in the full-length mirror on the back of my door. Five large pieces of bark from my potted plant are hanging off from different places on my skirt. I even have two pieces on the back of my shirt. I was so focused on being mad at Cohen that I didn’t even feel them when I sat down in my desk chair.

I brush the pieces to the floor. While I’m running my hand over my butt, it dawns on me that he must have been staring at my backside as I walked to my desk.
How else would he have noticed?
Well, I guess the chunks of wood on my rear end could have drawn his attention. Either way, he was looking at it. With this realization, a small smile creeps onto my face. I attempt to replace it with my frustrated stare, but the smile stays put.

At the meeting, our team comes up with a strategy for the rest of the week. Cohen puts in his two cents every now and then. I choose to keep my eyes focused on my notes, the presentation screen, or my coworkers. I look anywhere but at Cohen. The few times I speak up, I make sure to address my ideas directly to Mr. Hargrove.