Hold You Close Page 13

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” I start brewing the second cup and turn around to face her. “So.”

  “So.”

  We stand there staring at each other for a moment. “You came over to talk?”

  She nods. “Yes.”

  I fold my arms over my chest and lean back against the counter. “What about? The weekend travel thing? Because we can work that out. I’m sorry I blew up about that.” Apologizing doesn’t come easy for me, and she seems to know it judging by the stunned expression on her face.

  “Oh.” She blinks a couple times. “Well, good. Thank you. That makes my life a lot easier.”

  Damn, I feel like a god. “Great.”

  “But it’s more than the travel thing.”

  “Okay.”

  Her eyes drop to the coffee cup, which she takes in her hands without lifting from the counter. “What did you mean when you said I was running away?”

  Oh, fuck. I did say that, didn’t I? “Uh . . . I’m not sure what I meant.”

  She looks up at me. “Can we please be honest with each other for once? No games?”

  I swallow hard. Then I nod. “Okay. I said that because I thought what we did last night scared you, and you wanted to run away rather than admit it.”

  “Is that why you made me take off my clothes when I got here? Because you thought I’d run away again?”

  I hesitated. “Honestly? No. I just wanted to see you naked again.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I knew it.”

  “But I am curious. Did last night scare you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . .” She stares down at the coffee again.

  “Come on, you have to be honest now, too.”

  “Because you scare me, Ian. I have—conflicting feelings about you. I always have.”

  “Well, you’ll be glad to know we’re in the same boat.” I turn to reach for my coffee. When I face her again, she’s staring at me, wide-eyed.

  “You have feelings?”

  I slay her with a look. “Hey. We’re having a nice talk. Don’t ruin it.”

  She holds up both hands. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant, you have feelings feelings for me? Because that’s what I have for you. At least sometimes.”

  “Yes, London. I have feelings feelings for you. Sometimes. When you’re not calling me names or ordering me around.” I sip my coffee as if this is a casual conversation and I’m totally calm, but my stomach is in knots. Talking this way, being so candid with her, is really fucking strange. But I like it, sort of. At least, I like the way it’s got her so off guard. She looks like she doesn’t even know what to do with herself.

  “Wow. I’m . . . I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

  “Then I guess you’re not expecting me to ask you on a date, either.”

  Her jaw drops. “A date?”

  “Yes, a date. You know—a boy-girl, drive-in movie, steam-up-the-windows kind of thing.” The date idea came out of nowhere, but now I’m into it.

  Eyes closed, she shakes her head as if to clear it from confusion. “Am I in the right house?”

  I grin at her and take another sip of coffee. “How about one day next week when you get back from your trip?”

  “Ian, why do you want to take me on a date? It’s not that I don’t want to go, it’s just that I want to make sure I understand what this is.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “I thought it was just sex, and just for fun. That’s what you said this morning.”

  “I meant, It’s just sex, there is no reason to freak out. Not, It’s just sex and nothing more. You were the one who called it a mistake before we even got out of bed.”

  “Because I thought I was just another notch in your bedpost,” she blurts. “I figured you were just scratching an itch.”

  “Scratching an itch?” I set my cup down and cross my arms again. “Did you think I used you for sex?”

  “Kind of.”

  I have to laugh. “London, if I was just looking for sex, I wouldn’t have come to you. There are plenty of women who’d—”

  She puts out a hand. “Okay, enough. You can just stop that sentence there, I don’t need to hear the end of it.”

  “Sorry.” I moved toward her. “But if that’s what had you all worked up, you can relax.” Taking her by the shoulders, I turn her to face me, set my hips against hers. “I want more. How much more, I’ll be honest and say I don’t know, but not just sex.”

  She can’t keep a smile from forming, or the blush from her cheeks. “Really?”

  “Really.” I press my lips to hers, and it’s a different kind of kiss than we’ve had so far, one not inspired by frustration or impatience or lust. Instead, this one is about honesty. Affection. Feelings feelings.

  Jesus. I hope I can handle this.

  Thirteen

  London

  I’m living in an alternate reality. That’s the only thing that can explain this. Ian . . . wants to go . . . on a date . . . with me?

  Not possible.

  Yet I was standing right there. I heard the words, his lips were moving, and it happened.

  I’ve been packing my suitcase for the last two hours because each time I think I’m done, I realize I only packed underwear or ten pairs of pants but no shirts.

  I can’t think straight and it’s pissing me off.

  All I want is to talk to my best friend, but I don’t have that option anymore.

  “Fuck this,” I say to my cat as I dump my bag out on the bed. “I’m going to get answers so I can function.”

  He looks up at me and then lies back down. Helpful cat.

  I grab my phone and send him a text.

  * * *

  Me: Did you mean it? About the date?

  Ian: Yes.

  Me: You’re not just fucking with me as some sort of hazing experiment?

  Ian: Are you drunk again?

  Me: I’m not drunk.

  * * *

  I wish I was drunk. It would explain the conversation we had three hours ago. My flight leaves in a few hours and I shouldn’t be worried about Ian and his sudden feelings.

  * * *

  Ian: Did you change your mind?

  * * *

  I look at the message, trying to figure out how to answer him. If I say I changed my mind, I’m lying because I don’t know that I ever made up my mind, but more than that, I’m still . . . in shock. However, Ian put himself out there. He was kind, sweet even, after we had sex—again. It’s unlike we’ve been towards each other for the last twenty years and it’s confusing as hell.

  * * *

  Me: No. I just want to give you an out.

  * * *

  Yes, that’s it. I want him to have the chance to say he was joking now, before my heart softens even the slightest bit. My emotions with Ian are a rubber band in so many ways. I stretch and stretch until I’m at the point of snapping, but if I eased the tension, I’d go right back to my original form.

  I’m used to being stretched.

  I almost prefer that because when I wasn’t, I was head over heels in love with him.

  If this goes bad, there’s no doubt I’ll break.

  * * *

  Ian: Good. Open your door.

  Me: My door?

  * * *

  What the hell?

  I walk down the stairs and do as he says.

  When I open it, he’s standing there shirtless with his shorts sitting low on his hips.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Ian steps forward, grips my face in his hands, and kisses me.

  I’m thrown so far off guard that I fall back a little, but he’s got me. His lips mold to mine and I hold onto him for support. He cradles my cheeks in his hands, holding me right where he wants me. I can’t think as he continues to kiss me.

  I never want this to stop. Every woman should know what this kind of kiss feels like. The passion right now is so overwhelming, I co
uld drown in it.

  After God only knows how long, he leans back, pressing our foreheads together.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you like that for a long time,” he says as I try to calm my racing heart. “I’m not changing my mind. I want us to go out and have fun, and then I’m going to kiss you on your doorstep and walk to my house thinking about how much I want you. I’ll wonder if you’re in your bed, thinking about me and wishing you were back in my bed. I’ve spent a long time trying to hate you, London, but the truth is I never really did. So.” He leans back and our eyes meet. “Have a safe trip and I’ll see you when you get back.”

  My lips part and I stand there at a total loss for words. Is this the same Ian I’ve spent my entire adult life hating, yet somehow knowing it was just because in the depths of my heart I still loved him?

  He kisses my cheek and walks out the door, leaving me a mess.

  I blink a few times, waiting for the dream to end, to wake up, but nothing changes. Holy fucking shit, this day just keeps getting weirder.

  Somehow, I make it back to my room, where all the contents of my suitcase are strewn across the bed.

  Fuck it. I’ll just buy clothes in New Jersey. There’s no way I can pack now.

  “I’m really glad you came out, London. This meeting was everything we hoped for. It’s why we went with your company.”

  It’s been non-stop meetings in Atlantic City. I have never been so physically and emotionally exhausted.

  “Thank you for having me out and for taking such good care of me. I look forward to working with you and getting the proposal to you by next week.” I smile warmly.

  Right now, I don’t even know what I’d analyze because I’m beat. I barely slept, even though the owner of the casino put me up in his penthouse suite and I was more than comfortable. Sure, I could try to blame the time change, but that would be a lie. It was all because when I closed my eyes, all I saw was Ian. Everything reminded me of him, the night we spent together, the kids, or the things he said before I left.

  “Good. We’ll talk soon, have a safe trip back home.”

  “Thanks again.”

  I get into the black sedan to head back to the airport. Back to the kids and Ian.

  It’s strange how in just a few short weeks my entire life has been altered. Things were so simple before. I wouldn’t have hesitated to take this trip because I had nothing keeping me in Vegas. Sabrina wasn’t impacted by my work life and she was really all I had.

  Now, it’s the kids and Ian. I spent the entire trip messaging them, trying to make sure everyone was okay and didn’t need anything.

  Ian ended up taking the kids to the club Friday night, which I am still not even a little bit okay with, but they left before the doors opened. Yesterday, he had his manager come stay at the house for a few hours when he went in. He didn’t tell me this, but Morgan sure did.

  I plan to talk to him about that.

  The drive to the airport is long, and I end up taking a nap. Once I get to the airport, check in, and arrive at my gate, the flight is boarding. I pull out my phone, remembering that he sent me a text I never responded to.

  * * *

  Ian: What time do you land?

  Me: I get in around two. I’ll be there to watch the kids tonight, don’t worry. I took off the next few days since I need to work on a proposal.

  * * *

  Then I shoot a message to Morgan.

  * * *

  Me: Did you get your project done or do we need to work on it when I get home?

  Morgan: It’s done, Uncle Ian helped. Well, kind of.

  * * *

  Oh, God. I was good up until the ‘kind of.’

  * * *

  Ian: I’m not worried, but thanks. What airline are you flying?

  * * *

  I send him the screenshot of my flight info so he knows what time to expect me. I’ll have plenty of time to get home, showered, and ready before he needs to leave. The flight attendant comes over the speaker, informing us we have to power down.

  * * *

  Me: Flight is taking off now. I’ll see you later.

  Ian: See you soon.

  * * *

  Yeah, you will, and I pray to God you and I haven’t lost our minds.

  “Thank you for flying with us.” The flight attendant smiles as I deplane.

  “Sure.” I smile back but don’t mean it.

  The flight was awful.

  Turbulence was out of control, some kid was kicking my seat, even though I was in first class, and I couldn’t get the Wi-Fi to work.

  Seriously, worst flight ever. Well, maybe not the worst flight, because it actually landed. But it still sucked.

  I start the long walk down the terminal to head to the car service that’s waiting. I’m ready for a bath.

  Two soldiers are practically running toward people holding signs with balloons, and I smile. My father served in the Army before he and my mother had me. There used to be a large photograph in our hallway of him returning from deployment. In the picture, my mother has her arms wrapped around his neck, holding his hat in her hands, and my father’s smile is blinding. He didn’t take it down even after she left us, and I always loved looking at it.

  You could see in that moment how they both were just able to breathe again.

  I’ve longed for that. The way he looked at her. The way she needed him. I want to feel that as well.

  Even if it doesn’t last.

  “Aunt London!” I hear a voice I recognize yelling my name.

  I shade my eyes, look for the source, and find Ruby waving frantically on the sidewalk coming toward me.

  There, behind her, is Ian with a bouquet of roses, and Morgan and Christopher too.

  “You guys.” I make my way over, smiling. “What are you doing here?”

  Morgan nudges her uncle. “Well, someone wanted to surprise you . . . because he likes you.”

  “You’re grounded.” Ian nudges her back.

  “Why? Because I’m telling you the truth? You like her.”

  “You don’t need to tell her that!”

  Morgan rolls her eyes like the teenager she almost is. “No, it’s much better to lie. And you’re our role model?”

  “This is why Ruby is my favorite,” Ian says as he hoists the little peanut in his arms.

  God, I’ve missed them.

  “You did this?” I ask him, trying to save him from Morgan’s pestering.

  “I did. Are you surprised?”

  I nod. “This is a great surprise.”

  I have the greatest urge right now to kiss him. He did something so sweet, knocking me on my ass again.

  “Good. There’s more.”

  “More what?”

  Ruby smiles. “More fun!”

  Well, this is interesting.

  “Don’t get too excited, Aunt London.” Christopher shakes his head. “I wanted to go skydiving, but they had other ideas.”

  I laugh. “Well, I’m glad for that because you know I hate heights.”

  Ian sets Ruby down. “Let’s get going so we can show her our plan. I have a feeling she’s going to like it.”

  Ruby takes my hand. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. Were you a good girl for Uncle Ian?”

  She nods.

  “Did you guys eat while I was gone?”

  “Hey,” Ian cuts in. “I fed them, made them do homework, and no one got injured. Which is more than I can say when you were around.”

  I laugh. “So you were able to act like an adult?”

  “All by myself.”

  Then, Ian does something that completely takes me off guard. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me to his solid chest. My heart begins to race as his one hand glides up my back, securing me to him.

  “Ian,” I breathe. “The kids.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he mutters.

  “They . . .”

  “Shut up, London, and let me kiss you.”

  I don’
t say a word because before I can even try, his lips press against mine. It’s one of those head-spinning kisses too. Where the world fades away around us, and even surrounded at the airport, all that exists is Ian.

  He does this to me, which is the scary part.

  Morgan giggles and Christopher lets out a whistle. Ian and I break apart and my face is hot from embarrassment.

  “That is how you kiss a girl.” Ian nods once at Christopher.

  Oh, dear God. “Please don’t listen to a single thing your uncle says about dating. He’s really very bad at it, and his learning curve is not a path you want to follow.”

  “What?” Ian is outraged.

  “Seriously,” Morgan agrees. “Remember Mom always said Uncle Ian needed a whole lot of help when it came to girls? I think she was right.”

  “Hey,” he protests.

  “What? You’re kind of a mess.” Morgan shrugs.

  “You’re kind of a pain in the ass. Anyone ever tell you that, kid?”

  “Daily,” Morgan says with pride.

  At least she owns it. Morgan has always been an old soul. It’s probably why I’ve always loved spending time with her, even when she was little. Christopher was always into sports and definitely related to David and Ian. They were always watching a game of some sort, while Morgan wanted to discuss the news. And she’s a numbers girl, which is definitely something we share.

  Ruby is the total dress-up girly-girl. I’m not sure how the hell I’ll find a way to relate to her as she grows up. I don’t care about designer clothes, jewelry, or makeup. I like nice things, but I’ve never been materialistic. Not that I think Ruby will always keep the same interests she has at five, but she loves to do things that Morgan never did.