Hold on to Me (38 page)

Unease floated through Mitch’s gut. “I’m not really in the mood to see my place.”

Shit, was Ryan trying to depress him more? The last thing he needed on top of a gunshot wound—two gunshot wounds—and a broken heart was to see his house, the house he’d remodeled with his own two hands, full of holes he didn’t have the strength to fix.

“Pull up your big-girl panties, Mathews. You might be surprised at what you find.”

Ryan made the last turn, and Mitch tensed as his house came into view. But instead of bullet holes and broken windows, what he saw sent a flutter of surprise straight through his belly.

New windows, new trim, new siding, even a fresh coat of paint. The porch that had been damaged had been rebuilt. The bushes he knew had been trampled, replaced. There was a new front door, this one black, trendy, the kind of door he’d been looking for for months but hadn’t been able to find, with three small panes of glass across the top. Someone had even mowed the lawn.

Ryan pulled to the curb and killed the engine. Shocked, Mitch looked from the contractor’s van parked in the drive to the house, unable to believe it was the same place. “How did you—?”

“Surprise,” Ryan said.

Voices echoed behind their car, but Mitch was still too focused on the house to turn and look. Laughing, Kate popped the door and hollered at Julia and Kendrick, who went whizzing by on their bikes.

“I…don’t know what to say,” Mitch said to Ryan when they were alone.

“Don’t say anything to me. I didn’t do this.”

Mitch dragged his gaze from the house and finally looked at his best friend. “My parents?”

Ryan shook his head. “Not Katie either. Though when she found out about it, it was all I could do to keep her from spilling the beans.” He pulled something from his pocket and tossed it into Mitch’s lap. “This time, don’t fuck things up, okay?”

Mitch stared down at the small, black velvet box in his hand, having trouble processing Ryan’s words. Before his brain could click into gear, Ryan opened the door and climbed out of the car.

“Oh, and one more thing, Mathews. When you go in there, cut the woman a little slack. She’s kicked some serious ass this week while you’ve been parked on yours. And she did it all spending every damn night in your hospital room, sleeping on that uncomfortable couch while you were high on painkillers. I wouldn’t have done it, even if you did kiss me. She’s a keeper. But then, I’m pretty sure you already know that.”

Ryan closed the door, shouted something at Kendrick Mitch couldn’t make out, then took off across the street. Silence settled over the inside of the car. A silence that was broken only by the sudden pounding in Mitch’s ears. Slowly, he popped the top on the small box and looked down at the engagement ring he’d bought for Simone and never given her.

His gaze shot back up to the house. And, adrenaline surging, he found a strength he was pretty sure he’d lost the last few days.

It took him longer than he liked to walk up the path, and he was sweating by the halfway mark. Pausing to catch his breath, he looked up at the house. Before he could take another step, red curls filled his vision, and a small voice exclaimed, “Mitch!”

Shannon rushed toward him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held on tight. Her arm knocked into the bandage on his side, and he winced, but the pain was worth it. Warmth flooded his chest. He wanted to drop to his knees, take her into his arms, but he wasn’t sure he could get back up if he did. And he didn’t want to look pathetic.

He rubbed a hand over her hair and smiled down at her. “Hey, you. Miss me, did ya?”

Shannon laughed and looked up at him. “Yes. We had so much fun. We went swimming and snorkeling and got to sleep on this really cool boat. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

And Mitch couldn’t wait to hear it. But he needed to make it inside the house. Pulse racing, he looked back up at the open front door, not wanting to be disappointed, not wanting to hope too much. “Is your mom in there?”

“Yeah, Mom’s been bossing people around all morning. Man, your house was such a mess! Whoever broke in did all kinds of damage. It’s a good thing you weren’t home. I mean, there were holes everywhere.”

Shannon’s hurried voice echoed in Mitch’s ears, but all he could focus on was the fact Simone was here. She hadn’t left San Francisco. She hadn’t run away. She was still here, and that meant—maybe—they had a chance.

A lump formed in his throat, and he pushed his feet forward. Sweat slicked his spine when he got to porch, but excitement urged him on. Keeping his good arm wrapped around Shannon while she continued to babble on about her trip, he stepped through the open door, barely able to believe the change.

The house looked exactly the way it had before. Someone had even reframed his signed Mariner’s jersey that had fallen off the wall in the entry and crashed to the ground in a pile of glass during the attack.

Voices echoed from the kitchen. A man’s. Simone’s.

His pulse skyrocketed.

Mitch headed that way, his heart pulling him, his pulse pounding. When he reached the great room, he froze.

Simone stood in the kitchen, pointing something out on the ceiling to a man wearing a ball cap and tool belt. The man answered whatever she asked, jotted a note, pointed at something else. And though Mitch could hear their words, he couldn’t focus on what they were saying. All he could see was her, standing in his kitchen, fixing what he’d broken, doing all this for him.

As if she sensed him, she turned abruptly. Shannon’s voice died off as he stood staring at her mother. Surprise flashed in Simone’s eyes, followed by… Yeah, that looked like excitement, didn’t it? “Mitch.”

The breathy cadence of her voice sent a shiver down his spine. God, he loved the sound of her voice. Loved the way she said his name. Missed it. So damn much.

The contractor turned too, said something Mitch didn’t catch. In a daze, Mitch lifted his good arm from Shannon in a pathetic wave. The man muttered something about the laundry room, then excused himself and disappeared down the hall.

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” Simone said, rubbing her hands on the hem of the blue T-shirt that accentuated her breasts and made him remember how he’d worshipped them the night they’d stayed in Stinson Beach. She moved out from behind the island quickly, rushing toward him, but drew up short a foot away. “I wanted to be at the hospital, but there was too much going on here. I thought we had at least another hour.”

If she’d wanted to be at the hospital, that was a good sign, right? But she wasn’t moving into him. Wasn’t reaching for him. And though he wanted to pull her close and reassure himself everything between them was okay, he didn’t know if he should. Didn’t know where they stood. And, man, that was more pathetic than anything. “You did all this?”

Simone glanced up and around. “Yes. Well, no, I didn’t do it. I just…directed.”

“Mom’s good at directing,” Shannon said at his side. “I think the contractor’s a lot afraid of her.”

“Shannon,” Simone muttered, glancing down at her daughter. “Why don’t you go outside with Julia for a few minutes and let me talk to Mitch alone.”

Shannon cast a worried look between them, but eased away from Mitch. “You’re not going to disappear again, right?”

Even in the middle of the biggest surprise of his life, the kid could still get to him. His throat grew tight. “I won’t. I promise.”

He watched Shannon head down the hall toward the front door, his chest and head vibrating with emotions he was afraid to let free.

In front of him, Simone twisted her hands together and bit her lip. “How do you feel? You look a little pale.”

He slid his gaze back to her. How did he feel? He wasn’t sure yet. But he’d be a hell of a lot better if she kissed him. “I’m…fine. I—”

A very familiar string instrument floated out of the speakers in the ceiling, cutting off Mitch’s words.

Simone cringed. “That’s Shannon. Sorry.”

Mitch wasn’t. Van Morrison. “These are the Days.” The song that had been playing the night she’d come home from DC.

He just hoped like hell this time things ended better than they had then.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” he said.

“Well.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I broke this. It was my job to fix it.

She was talking about more than just the house.
God, please let her be talking about more than the house.
“No, you didn’t. It was my fault too. I’m the one who should be doing the fixing.”

Her eyes held his a long heartbeat, but she didn’t answer. And in the silence, every fear he’d had since that awful night came rushing back.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and her kiss-me lips parted, just a touch. “Mitch, I…”

Say you miss me. Say you want me. Please say you still love me, even after everything that’s happened
.

One single tear rolled down her cheek. And then she was moving toward him, grasping his face, pulling it down to hers, shaking with the same emotions he felt. “Don’t you dare put me through that again. I can’t lose you. Not now when I finally found you.”

Her mouth lifted to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck. And even as pain shot through his shoulder and side at the jerky movement, he groaned, opened to her kiss, wrapped his good arm around her, and tugged her as close as he could.

His legs went out from under him. He dropped to his knees on the hardwood floor. Simone pulled her mouth away and gasped. “Mitch? Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean—”

Yes, he hurt. And yes, he was in pain, but this pain he could live with because it would pass. Losing her wouldn’t. “I’m fine. Just kiss me, Simone.” He lifted his mouth to hers. “Ah, God, just kiss me.”

She sank to her knees with him, and he swept his tongue between her lips, kissing her again, deeply, passionately, with every bit of love swirling inside him. And when she groaned and kissed him back just as fervently, that heart that had broken and cracked right here in this very room fused back together.

The twinge in his side eventually got to be too much, and he dragged his mouth from hers, but he didn’t let go. Burying his face in her hair, he held on tight. “I missed you. Damn, but you have no idea how much.”

“I missed you too,” she whispered. “I was so scared. I shouldn’t have run from you. I’m sorry. I thought… Oh it doesn’t matter what I thought anymore.” Her fingers sifted into his hair, and she held him so close he could feel the beat of her heart against his own, just where it was supposed to be. “All that matters is that I love you. So much. And I won’t run again. I promise. I only want you. If, that is, you still want me.”

He lifted his head and looked down at her. “I’ve always just wanted you. You and Shannon and a stupid minivan. You’re everything to me, Counselor. You always will be.”

Her eyes softened, and very gently, with her hands cupping his face, she pressed her lips to his. “I’m so glad to hear that. But”—she eased a breath away—“there’s just one thing. How sold are you on the whole minivan thing?”

“Why?” A whisper of doubt rushed in. “What are you getting at?”

She bit her lip, looking sexy and cute and way too damn perfect. “It’s just… I don’t quite know how to tell you this.” Her cute little nose wrinkled. “I don’t think your Defender’s going to make it.”

His Land Rover hadn’t been in the driveway. He hadn’t realized that until just now. Which meant it probably had as many, if not more, holes than his house.

And, wow, he didn’t even care. What did that say about him now? But he could tell from the mischievous little smirk on her face that she wanted him to play along.

“Ouch. I think that hurt more than being shot. Twice.”

She laughed, the sound as sweet as bells, and stroked her fingers against his scruffy jaw. “How about I make it up to you?”

Arousal speared through his belly. An arousal that obviously wasn’t deterred by gunshot wounds or surgery or killer pain meds. “That depends on what you have in mind.”

Simone grinned and pressed her lips against the spot she’d just been stroking. “Well, I was thinking, if you’d consider upgrading to something a little sportier, I might be willing to go hiking with you now and then.”

“That does have potential.” He thought of the fire lookout and all the things he’d wanted to do to her in that cozy little room. His blood warmed as she trailed her lips to his ear and gently bit down on his lobe. “Even if there could be bears on our hike?”

“No bears.”

He chuckled. “That might be hard to guarantee. What else are you offering?”

“Hm… Well, if the vehicle’s big enough, say…like Kendrick’s Range Rover…then how about a car seat. Or two?”

Kids. She was talking about more kids. Smile fading, he drew back and looked down into her mesmerizing eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But only if you marry me first. Because I still want to marry you. Desperately.”

He hadn’t thought he could fall more in love with her, but he did, right there. And this time his shortness of breath wasn’t from his still-healing lung, but from all the emotions tightening his chest. “Ah, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure I’m making out better in this deal than you.”

“Not a chance.” Her smile returned, and she lifted her lips back to his. “I’m a lawyer. I know how to negotiate a contract to my advantage. So what do you say?”

He let go of her with his good arm, pulled the ring from his pocket, and held it up. “I say…yes.”

Her eyes went all soft and dreamy when she looked down at the princess-cut diamond, and one tear turned into several. “Oh, Mitch. Where did you get that?”

“Shannon helped me pick it out. Weeks ago.”

“Weeks ago,” she whispered. Her eyes slid closed, and she drew in an unsteady breath. But when she opened them again, they were warm and glistening with tears he knew were filled with happiness, not despair. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He slid the ring on her finger, then tipped her mouth back up to his. And as the music shifted to “Someone Like You,” he kissed her until she was breathless. Until he could no longer think. Until she was all he could see and feel and know.