Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2 (21 page)

BOOK: Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2
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I love you, too.

The words lodged in his brain. Tomorrow. He’d tell her tomorrow, and they could talk all day if she wanted. Tonight he’d show her. He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks and looked at her face, waited for her eyes to open and, when they did, his only thought was,
She knows
.

When he touched his mouth to hers again it was in a different way than ever before, hesitant and a bit unsure, testing, tasting, as if this was somehow the first time. They shared a knowing smile and then sank into each other with a desperate joy, a sensation of exploration and new discovery. Sean gave wholly of himself, knew he received Rebecca in the same way, saw that she understood it too when their gazes met after their passion was spent. She whispered his name and her heart shone in her eyes.

For the first time in years Sean felt clean again.

 

***

 

“I’m exhausted.” Rebecca fingered the dark hair jetting over Sean’s ears, “but not sleepy yet. Does that make sense?”

They lay facing each other. Sean traced the curve of her body from ribs to hips to thighs and then back again in a continuing loop, felt his eyes becoming weightier the longer she toyed with his hair. He hadn’t been this content in a long time. Maybe never.

“How can you not be sleepy?” The sandpaper quality to his voice underscored his meaning. “We’ve been awake for over twenty-four hours.”

“Not quite. We slept for a couple hours in front of the fire.”

Sean forced his eyes open and gave her a smile, prompting her to move her hand from his hair to his face. She rubbed his stubbly jaw, her eyes soft.

“I want to know more about you, like, what’s your favorite dessert, because it seems like you adore anything made with sugar, and what’s your favorite color? Did you ever have a dog or a cat?”

“That’s random, but okay. I’ll play Q&A with you. My favorite dessert is coconut cream pie, favorite color is...” He stroked her cheek and leaned in for a kiss. “Well, lately I’ve been partial to green.” Rebecca smiled and his heart swelled. God, but he had it bad. “Never liked cats, but Sasha, our office cat, has changed my opinion. And we had dogs when I was a kid, two yippy Yorkshire terriers I avoided like the plague. A dog like TJ’s Pirate would be great, though. Okay, now you. Same questions.”

“Strawberry shortcake, green and blue--and red. You already know I love cats. And we always had dogs in the house when I was growing up. My parents have a couple of Boxers now. They’re slobbery, but lovable. Okay, next question. Why does Mrs. M call you Mr. Kinkaid instead of Sean? Shouldn’t you two be on a first name basis by now?”

“Her choice. She likes the professionalism of it. I couldn’t handle calling her Mrs. Manischewitz all the time, so I shortened it to Mrs. M. She calls me Sean sometimes, usually when she’s dispensing unrequested advice, and when she calls me Sean instead of Mr. Kinkaid, I listen up. Okay, my turn. At the wedding, that woman--Dana?--said something about an incident that happened when you were in college. It prompted you to take up martial arts. Will you tell me about it?”

Rebecca’s body stiffened and she lowered her gaze. Sean never stopped trailing his fingers over her thigh and hip in a gentle and rhythmic caress that he hoped would ease her discomfort while he waited for a response.

She swallowed and returned her gaze to his, her expression muted. “There’s not much to it.” Her shoulder lifted in a subtle shrug. “I was attacked after work one night. It was past midnight, and I left the restaurant where I worked part-time as a hostess. A van was parked right next to my car. I should’ve gone back inside the restaurant, asked a coworker to walk out with me, but I convinced myself I was being paranoid.” She swallowed again and cleared her throat. “There were three guys that grabbed me. I screamed and fought back, but--” She shook her head. “I couldn’t break free. They tried to get me into their van, but one of my managers had left his cell phone in his car to charge, and he came out to get it, saw what was going on. As soon as he hollered and started running toward us, the men let go of me, got in their van, and took off. I signed up for self-defense classes the next day, and the day I turned twenty-one I bought a gun and started shooting lessons.”

She made her last statement in a tone Sean interpreted to be defensive, as if she expected him to argue with her right to self-defense. “Did they ever catch the guys who tried to hurt you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. It was an unmarked van, no plates.”

“What do you carry?” He smiled when her eyes widened in surprise.

“M&P Shield.”

“The lady likes Smith & Wesson. Good choice.”

Rebecca’s body eased a tad and she smiled. “You know guns?”

“Not as well as you do, but I’m a good Georgia boy. I’ve been shooting a time or two.”

“We should go to the range some time.”

“You’ll kick my ass, but okay.”

Rebecca’s eyes crinkled into a smile and her body fully relaxed. “My turn to ask a question. Does it bother you that I really
can
kick your ass?”

Sean grinned and stole a quick kiss. “Nah. I think it’s hot,” he said, and made her laugh. It was his turn again, and he held her gaze while he considered his options. “So, I asked you once why you always met Tate everywhere--”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Nate.”

“--instead of letting him pick you up, and you said it was easier because of your work schedule. I want to know--what’s the real reason?”

“I didn’t lie. That’s one of the reasons.” She made a face. “Okay, well, I don’t like being trapped. If I drive myself, I can go home without relying on someone else. I like the option of leaving when I want.”

“So, you’re a control freak.”

Rebecca pinched his butt and made him wince. “See, I knew you would think that. That’s why I didn’t say it the first time you asked. I’m not a control freak, at least, not about other people. I like to be in charge of myself, that’s all. And now it’s my turn. You mentioned Nate, so I get to mention Lindsay. Fair?”

“Go ahead.”

“She said you were one of the best defense attorneys in New York. Is that true, and if it is, why did you give it up to move back here?”

Sean considered his answer for long minutes before he found the words. “I don’t have enough hubris to qualify myself as the best, or even one of the best, but I had a great record and was on my way up. Full partner was right around the corner. I left because after Jack died my family needed me here, and no, I’ve never once regretted my decision to come back to Bright Hills.”

“I’d sure like to hear the unredacted answer to that question, Counselor.”

Sean turned onto his back and drew her with him, settled her in with her head pillowed against his shoulder. “My turn. Have you ever had a sit-down with your father about the chauvinistic way he treats you? I mean a real conversation, not just a frustrated spat.”

“I’ve tried, and Cal has talked to him, but no, no real come-to-Jesus meeting. And trust me, there’s no point. Talking won’t work with my dad. He has to see it in action, which is what I’ve spent the last seven months trying to do.” She yawned and snuggled closer. “One more question. What’s the one big thing you want to accomplish before you hit the big 4-0?”

“That’s easy. I want to be the mayor of Bright Hills, will probably run in the next election.”

“Seriously?” Rebecca sat up on her arms to see his face. “That’s freaking awesome, Sean,” she said, and he could see in her eyes that she meant it. “When did you decide to run for mayor?”

“You have to promise not to laugh.” He grinned and hesitated. “When I was about seven. I want to be the guy who turns on the Christmas tree in the square.”

Rebecca’s lips twitched and she settled herself back into his embrace. “I hope you intend to run with a better platform than that.”

“Same question to you, Xena. What do you have to do, or die trying, before you’re 40?”

“Mm. Well, it isn’t as big a deal as running for mayor.” Rebecca paused to yawn. “It sounds so cliché, but I want to be a mother. I think having a baby is the biggest miracle ever, and I don’t want to miss out on it. I think I’ll be a freaking awesome mom.”

Sean’s chest tightened.
Of all the damn things
.

“You’ll be a fantastic mother,” he managed to say through a throat gone tight and dry. He could picture her with a couple of redheaded, curly-haired kids in tow, happy and fulfilled.

“I know.” Another yawn abbreviated her sleepy laugh. “That’s a long way off, though. I’ve got a lot to accomplish first.”

Sean shifted to turn off the light on the nightstand, then settled back to trail a lazy hand up and down Rebecca’s arm, felt her breathing slow and her muscles go lax.

He stared into the dark. His heart lay in his chest like a weight, crushing his lungs and his fleeting joy. He should have known better than to think he could keep her, to think he deserved to. If he were to give credence to Lindsay and her cosmic signs, this was about as a big a sign as he could have received from the Universe at large.

She’s not meant for you. You can’t have her.

Rebecca deserved to have the life she wanted, a husband and children. If he didn’t love her, didn’t know down to his marrow that she loved him, it wouldn’t matter. They could go on with their arrangement until it ran its course. But things had changed, and if they kept seeing each other it wouldn’t be an arrangement anymore, it would become a dead-end relationship, time Rebecca would be wasting with him and forfeiting her opportunity to meet someone with whom she could build the life she envisioned for herself.

Sleep eluded him. He held Rebecca, watched her in sleep as daylight came to the room in slow degrees, gray as his mood. He memorized how she looked at rest, the fall of her lashes against the arc of her cheek, the curve of her face, the curls his hands always itched to touch. And in the pale light before slipping from the bed he said aloud, “I love you, Rebecca,” because he had a powerful need to feel the words cross his tongue in her presence just once.

He stood in the doorway and looked at her one more time, shoulders slumped in resignation.

What choice did he have but to end it? He didn’t deserve her, and the one thing Rebecca wanted most was the only thing Sean was certain he was incapable of giving her.

 

***

 

Rebecca woke to the sound of a limb, overburdened with ice, crashing to the ground somewhere outside the bedroom window. She sat up with a startled gasp, pushed her hair from her face, and blinked to clear her vision. It took a few moments for her brain to catch up and, when it did, disappointment flooded through her.

Where was Sean? Was she ever going to wake up in the morning with that man still beside her?

A spoon clinked against something ceramic. She smelled coffee and decided to forgive him for abandoning her. She might even offer him a reward for starting breakfast.

A few minutes later she padded down the hall in a pair of yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt covered with little black paw prints. She kept her hair down and wild because for some reason she couldn’t fathom, it turned the man on.

“Hey,” she said when she reached the kitchen.

Sean stood at the counter fixing a cup of coffee. He looked up at the sound of her voice, and handed her the mug. His hands disappeared into his pockets and he took two steps back. Rebecca’s bright smile faded. Her heart dropped to her stomach as if iced over and ripped from its moorings like the branch that woke her. Foreboding trickled through her. The warm lover from last night had been replaced by--who?

She swallowed hard and stared at him, knew her eyes and hot face betrayed every bit of her confusion and fear of loss. What the hell? What had happened between falling asleep and waking up?

The only thing she knew for certain was he wore goodbye like a second skin.

He cleared his throat. “The trucks have been by. The roads are salted and sanded, but you should probably stay in today. There’s more bad weather coming.”

The weather? He wanted to talk about the freaking weather?

Hands trembling, she set her mug on the counter. Every thump of her heart, every shivering breath, occurred with heightened resonance. She wiped her sweaty hands against her thighs and struggled to breathe.

God, oh god, this was really happening. After the most amazing night when she thought--
no, knew
--their status changed, he had clammed up and stepped back.
Why?

“Sean,” she began, hating the needy timbre in her voice.

“I brought your luggage in, and I de-iced your car the same time I took care of mine. Keys are on the counter.”

Rebecca glanced over, saw her key ring with the Civic’s keys on it and the lone house key sitting next to it. Sean’s key. It jolted her. He was ending it, no doubt about it. Tears welled and she stared at the key, bewildered and hurt, and more than a little pissed off.

She forced her gaze to Sean and crossed her arms over her chest, her only armor, but it didn’t stop her shivering. She might spill hot tears, but she’d be damned if she’d give him anything else.

“Say it, Sean.”

“Rebecca--”

“If you’re really doing this, I need to hear the words. No misunderstandings.”

His lawyer face slipped when he nodded and looked away, and she swore she saw regret, but when he regarded her again his expression appeared as enigmatic as before. “Our arrangement is over. It’s time we moved on.”

She set her back against the door jamb, a slight shift in her position, but necessary to keep her wobbling knees from buckling. She pressed her hands around the edges of the molding and held on tight
. Why? Why are you doing this? We’re perfect together. I love you. What happened?

Rebecca bit her lip to keep the desperate questions at bay.

No strings, no drama, no questions. Just goodbye.

The words mocked her.

Under any other circumstances, she would demand an explanation, she would fight for him, for them. But the man had been clear from the beginning about what this was and how it would end, and she had given her word and accepted his terms. She wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle or turn their goodbye into drama. That wasn’t how she wanted him to remember this moment, assuming he ever gave it, or her, another thought.

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