Confessions in the Dark (16 page)

She slid her arm lower, peeking at him through one half-open eye. Blowing out a breath, she covered it again, hiding herself from his vision. “It's nothing. Just a bad day.”

“Bullshit.”

“Language.”

“I call it like I see it.” She hadn't tried to push him away so far, so he ventured a little farther. With care, he reached out, lifting her hand and pulling it away from her face. “Something happened.” He hated the way his voice wavered. “Tell me about it?”

He could offer comfort. He scarcely remembered how, but he could try. She deserved that much after all the times she'd offered it to him.

For a moment that dragged on and on, she stared at him. Then she twisted her hand in his, entwining their fingers and holding on. Closing her eyes, she asked, “Just, have you ever felt really helpless? Like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't do what you needed to? For the people you love?”

His ribs squeezed in, and he tightened his hold on her hand. “You know I have.”

Opening one eye, she winced. “Oh, crap. Sorry.”

He pushed away the guilt that had crippled him for so long. This wasn't about him. “Don't be. Go on.”

At her hesitation, he lifted their hands to his lips and laid soft kisses along her knuckles. He could wait her out if he had to.

Finally, she broke. “You know how I was going to bring some of your leftovers to Upton?”

“I do.”

“Well, let's just say they didn't go over so well.”

“What?” He'd tried those scones himself. They'd been perfect, exactly the way Helen had preferred.

“Ugh.” She visibly braced herself. “You remember Grayson?”

Cole stiffened, dropping their hands from his lips. “How could I not?”

Giving him a chiding look, she continued. “Well, he called me into his office.” Her eyes went bright, her jaw flexing. “And he told me I shouldn't come around there anymore.”

“He
what
?” It came out too harsh. Too angry, and he fought to reel himself back.

“Shh.” She stroked her thumb across his as if to soothe him. It halfway worked. “He was right. He basically called me out on trying to bribe Max's way into the school.”

“But you haven't...”

“Please. Of course I have. I called it ‘buttering them up' in my mind, but it's a pretty fine line.” The dampness to her gaze flashed in the light, and her cheeks flushed hot. “I thought I was helping. I just wanted to do this thing for Max, you know? He deserves everything, and I...” She trailed off, but he heard what she was saying.

What she'd already said about feeling helpless and trying so hard to do right by the people she loved.

And it was a whole different kind of tightness behind his ribs. Not rage but righteousness. Indignation. And the softest, most tender impulse.

She took such good care of
everyone
. Her nephew and her family and even him. Didn't she see that?

When was the last time anyone had taken care of
her
?

“Serena.” Leaning forward, he lifted his free hand to cup her face, drawing her gaze to meet his. “You do so much for him.”

She squirmed. “I try.”

“You do,” he insisted. “He loves you terribly.”

“But there are just all these things he doesn't have. Penny left him, and my mom does her best, but I just want to fix it all.”

“Some things you can't fix.” He of all people knew that. “You went above and beyond with this. You've given him his best possible chance.”

“Or maybe I just messed it all up for him.”

“Did they say that?”

“No, but—” A low hiccup cut her off. A drop of moisture beaded at the corner of her eye, and he wanted to kiss it away. So he did.

“You,” he said, pressing his lips to her cheek, tasting salt, “have done every single thing you could.” He kissed her forehead and her other cheek. He kissed her nose and then leaned in farther. Until their mouths were nearly brushing, bare breaths apart. “And I am so proud of you for getting him this far.”

She let out a wet chuckle of a laugh, then curled her hand around his neck. “How did you know exactly what I needed to hear?”

He hadn't, but he'd done his best. It was all anyone could really do.

With no words left to describe how amazing she was, he closed the gap between them. Her lips were soft beneath his as he gentled them open. The kiss was slow and sweet, and it reached into his chest. He'd missed sex all right, but he just might have missed this more. The connection warmed him to his bones, zipping between them, and he shut his eyes against the well of feeling opening inside him.

For the longest time, they stayed just like that. The lingering tension in her body bled away, and she trailed her fingertips down his spine, firing off sparks. He shifted, leaning them back into the couch. He was hard—how could he not be with her touching him and responding to his kiss? But it was an idle arousal. One he could take his time with.

Still, he darted his tongue out to lick between her lips, and she moaned, opening wider for him. The low heat within him deepened with the kiss, and he drifted his hand down her throat. He ran it through the valley of her breasts.

Only for her to catch his wrist.

She pulled away, eyes dark, lips wet and red, the same low desire written on every inch of her. But she dropped her gaze and shifted back, an apologetic smile to her lips. “I have a bunch of planning to do for tomorrow, and there's still dinner to figure out—”

“It's fine,” he interrupted, knowing a request for a rain check when he heard it. All the same, he stole one last kiss.

It pinched to stand in his condition, but he managed it, rearranging himself in his trousers as he did. When she made a halfhearted effort to get up, too, he shook his head, urging her back.

“I'm just going to grab my bag,” she protested.

“No. You're not.” He didn't know when the last time was that someone took care of her, but the next one was going to happen right now.

“Excuse me?”

He grabbed her remote control and her e-reader off the end table and tossed them both at her. “You, my dear, are going to sit right there, and you're either going to find something to watch or pick a book to read.”

She raised one brow, but a soft curve colored her mouth. “I am, am I? And what will you be doing?”

“I”—he got his crutch under him and made for the kitchen—“will be ordering takeout.” He paused, waiting for an objection.

All he got was a hopeful, “Sushi?”

“I will be ordering sushi,” he clarified. “And then I'm going to make you a nice cup of tea, which you will sip at your leisure while you take a little bit of time for yourself. Good plan?”

She nodded, a warmth to her gaze that was new—that was everything. “Great plan.”

He was as good as his word, too. He called the Japanese place down the street he'd had delivery from before. As he got her kettle going, he glanced around the corner to find her scrolling through her Netflix queue. She'd tucked her legs up under herself, and his heart gave a little lurch just to be able to look on at her like this. To see her happy and relaxed and in his care.

By the time the tea was ready, she'd picked something out to watch. He managed to carry two mugs over at once. He set them both down on her coffee table before falling back into the seat beside her.

She made a face as she reached for the closest mug and curled her fingers around the handle.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I never use this mug.”

It had been one of the only ones left in her cupboard; with everything else they'd gotten up to this weekend, doing the dishes hadn't ever been top of the list.

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“The handle's crooked. See?”

Now that she mentioned it, he supposed he could see it. He made to take it from her. “I'll trade you.”

“It's fine.”

“Why don't you just get rid of it?”

She looked at him like he was crazy. “I made it.”

How on earth had he forgotten? “Oh.”

And it was irrational, the fond, protective warmth he suddenly felt for a misshapen piece of pottery. An imperfect piece this woman kept around because of sentiment—because it was the labor of her own two hands.

He kept glancing at it as they settled in, the gears in his head slowly turning. She tucked herself against his side and hit
PLAY
, and he tried to focus on the program she'd picked out.

But he circled around again and again to that mug.

She'd told him once before how much she enjoyed the pottery class she'd taken, and clearly she'd been good at it. She'd let it go, though. There hadn't been enough time.

She never made enough time. Not for herself.

Maybe...

Maybe she needed someone to make the time for her.

Y
ou sure you don't want to come for dinner tonight, sweetie?” Serena's mom had her head in Serena's fridge. That not-so-subtle edge crept into her voice as she poked around. And okay, fine, there were some proverbial flies buzzing around in there it was so empty, but that wasn't her fault. She'd been
busy
. In fact, she was running late right now.

Not that she knew what she was running late
for
, mind you. Cole had been more cryptic than usual, just telling her he had something special in mind and that she should let him know as soon as Max was gone.

It had her skin humming with anticipation, her gaze returning again and again to the clock on the microwave, and she didn't want to rush her mother out or anything, but...

Fighting not to fidget, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Not tonight. Thanks, though.”

Her mom closed the fridge and turned around, brows raised. Oh, crap. Serena knew that look.

“You have plans or something?”

No sense beating around the bush. Her mom knew all her tells. “Yeah. Actually, I do.”

“With a boy?”

Ugh. Did this ever get less embarrassing? “Maybe.”

“I didn't know you were seeing anyone.”

“It's...new.” That wasn't a lie. It wasn't entirely true, either. She and Cole had been darting around this since the moment they'd met, and they'd been sleeping together for a week and a half now, seeing each other nearly every day.

She chewed at her lip. It wasn't like her to keep something like this from her mother. Her mom's opinion was important to her—the most important, really. She'd considered bringing Cole around for Sunday dinner that weekend even, but something had stopped her. What she had with Cole—it was heady and intense and exhilarating. But it was fragile, too. She couldn't help the roiling feeling in her gut telling her the whole affair would crumble if exposed to too bright of a light.

Introducing him to her family. Telling her mom. It made it feel too real.

It made her remember all the reasons this thing between her and Cole would probably never last.

Leveling her with the kind of gaze that'd had her confessing all kinds of sins back when she was a teenager, her mother tilted her head to the side. True to form, Serena squirmed, but she held her tongue.

Finally, her mom rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I want to meet this boy eventually, you realize.”

“Of course.” Relief made Serena loosen her grip on her own arms. “Just let me see if there's something there first, okay?”

“All right.” Her mom was giving up way too quickly. Maybe she'd sensed that Serena wasn't ready to be pressed. She'd always been perceptive like that.

Or maybe she was just too eager to change the subject.

Her mom glanced into the other room where Max was furiously swiping at the screen of his tablet, clearly not paying them an ounce of his attention. Leaning in closer, she asked, “Have you heard from your sister again?”

Serena's stomach dropped.

She'd been trying not to think too much about that last awful phone call she and Penny had had while she'd been dress shopping, and Lord knew she'd had plenty of distractions to keep her mind off it.

“No. I tried her doctor in New York, but he wouldn't tell me anything except to stay calm and be supportive.” She made a face. How long had they been hearing that line now?

“I can't stop worrying. She's been sounding off for a while now, and after that call she gave you, it's almost like...”

Serena swallowed. “I know.” Like the worst years, back in high school before they'd had any idea what this thing was. Like when she'd ended up in the hospital again right after she'd had Max. “But what do we do?”

“If she doesn't call home soon, I'm getting on a plane.”

It wouldn't be the first time. Serena understood why her sister chose to live so far away. She and her mother could be stifling, and she hadn't been wrong when she'd accused them of treating her with kid gloves for years.

She wished all the time that Penny lived closer for Max's sake. But she wasn't so selfless that she couldn't sometimes wish she'd stayed closer for the rest of their sakes as well.

“Well, here's hoping it doesn't come to that. I'll try her again tomorrow, promise.”

“You're so good to your mother.” Her mom leaned in and planted a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek.

And, yeah, that was about right. As much as she said Serena should be off enjoying her youth, her mom was never as affectionate as she was when Serena pitched in and helped take some of the load.

With a pat to her other cheek, her mother stepped back. “Okay, we'll get out of your hair so you can get ready for that date.” Louder, she called, “Max? Time to go.”

Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Max made a few more motions on the screen, then nodded, grabbing his bag as he hauled himself to his feet. Still unsettled by the whole conversation, Serena went through the motions of getting Max packed up and out the door, ducking down for their secret handshake and his hug.

She could nearly set a timer between their making it to the curb below and Cole's knock sounding on her door. Still gazing out the window after them, she raised her voice to say, “It's open.”

Cole let himself in, his uneven gait as familiar as her own pulse now. He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her throat, breath soft. “I thought they'd never leave.”

She hummed in halfhearted agreement, but her gaze was still on the car below. Her mom pulled out of her parking spot, and Serena closed her eyes.

Cole felt so nice, the soft line of kisses he lay beneath her ear sending a warm buzz humming through her skin. His scent surrounded her, and that should be all she needed. But she couldn't quite seem to bring herself to relax.

He hesitated, lips parting damply from her skin. “Serena?”

She opened her eyes. “It's nothing. My mom was just asking me again about my sister.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We're both worried about her.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes. No. Maybe. It was too much to put on him, wasn't it? Eventually, she shook her head. “Not really.”

He didn't quite seem to believe her, but he didn't press. She wasn't sure if that was a disappointment or a relief.

For a while, they stayed there just like that, him holding her and her letting him. If only she could really lean back into him and let him take her weight. For now, though, this was enough.

Finally, she pushed her worries away. Releasing a long breath, she turned to face him, lifting her arms to lock her hands behind his neck, and it was still a little awkward. A little tense. But she shook that off and managed a smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he said. He ducked in for a peck of a kiss and then another. His hand at her side tightened and he touched his tongue to her lip like a question.

She welcomed him in without hesitation, happy to lose herself in this. Drawing closer, she angled her head to deepen the kiss, and his breath came out rough, palm sliding higher on her ribs. A blooming heat unfurled in her abdomen and in her breasts, a little of her tension leaving her at last.

But just as she really gave herself over to it, he inched back. He bit down hard on his own lip, and his voice came out shivery. “As much as I'd like to continue this...”

“I'm not stopping you.”

He exhaled hard through his nose. “We need to go.”

Go? That made her pull back.

It probably shouldn't have come as such a shock. He'd told her he had plans, after all. But outside of the benefit and his appointments, they never really left the building together. There was his mobility and the sheer convenience of staying in. Everything they needed was here, and anything they wanted was easy enough to have delivered in a neighborhood like this.

She arched a brow. “Any chance you're going to tell me where we're going?”

“Slim.” With one last, reluctant pat to her waist, he stepped away. The tilt to his mouth was all mischief, and that was new, too. New and intriguing and sexy, honestly. “After all,” he said, grinning, “I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.”

“Take a left at the light.”

Serena cast him yet another suspicious glance, but he didn't respond to it. No way he was giving away the game now.

He'd forgotten how difficult it was to keep a secret from someone you cared about—a good secret made it even harder. All through dinner, he'd nearly opened his mouth to let it out a hundred times. There was a restless excitement humming through him. It had his heel bouncing up and down, had him worrying the edges of his nails with his teeth.

He wanted her to know. He wanted her to like it.

But he wanted to see the look on her face when he revealed it even more.

Finally, they turned off Lincoln and onto the side street. They circled for a while looking for someplace to park, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

“I would have dropped you off, you know,” she said, falling into step beside him, looking pointedly at his crutch.

“Nonsense.” He'd been getting even stronger in the past week. Using the leg still smarted, but it was the path to recovery, and he had incentives to get better faster now.

Walking in his city with a beautiful woman, for example.

Or being able to really pin her to his bed for another.

A jolt of heat zipped through him at the thought. They'd found plenty of creative ways to make love in the past week and a half, but soon...

Soon he was going to climb on top of her and press himself inside. Take her hard and fast—or maybe slow. So slow, until she was begging for more.

He quickened his pace. Damn, but she had better
love
this surprise, because if she didn't he was going to be cursing himself for refusing to let her talk him into staying home.

She kept looking around as they walked, and his pulse thrummed faster the closer they got, anticipation winding him higher and higher.

They were nearly upon it when she smiled. “You know, we're actually super close to my old...pottery...studio...” Her words slowed until she trailed off completely, and then she stopped dead in her tracks. The lightbulb that appeared over her head was bright enough to light the block. She turned to him, eyes wide. “No.”

And suddenly, it wasn't just anticipation making his heart pound through his ribs. A rush of nervousness blindsided him.

Fuck. What if she
didn't
like it? What if he'd cocked it all up or overstepped? He hadn't tried to do something like this for anyone in years. He could've misread the situation entirely.

Shrugging, he swallowed past the tightness in his throat. He didn't have a backup plan. For better or for worse, he was committed now to see this through. “You always talk about it like it was something you loved.”

“I did. I do. But—”

“You do so much for other people. All day long, you're taking care of them. You take care of Max and your students and your mother. And me.” And this was the crux of the matter, really. “You should do something nice for you.” He nodded, squaring his jaw. “Since you clearly weren't going to, I figured I had to do it for you.”

She blinked, thick lashes fluttering. Her gaze pierced straight through him, and there was nothing in it he could read.

Shit. Maybe he really had cocked this up.

He took a deep breath. “Look. If you don't want to, we don't have to.”

“Of course I want to.” She came back to life, the stillness falling out of her limbs as she stepped into him. Her hands rose to settle on his waist, and even that small touch was magic. Her smile was transcendent. “Cole. This is amazing. It's too much—”

“It's not even close to enough. You deserve everything.” It came out raw, too honest by half, and he cleared his throat. “Just...Let me give it to you.”

There was that look again, intense and wondering, and it seemed to reach its way into his chest. Instead of saying anything, she brushed soft fingertips against his cheek, lifting onto tiptoes.

This, at least, he knew how to handle. He dropped his head to meet her lips, trying to pour the things he didn't know how to put into words into the kiss. Her mouth was hot and wet and too perfect of a counterpoint to the cool night air around him, and he could drown in this. He could.

But they were on a public street, barely a dozen paces from the gift he'd chosen for her. When she pulled away, he let her go, even though the soft, shy press of her shining teeth against her lip had him hard inside his pants.

“Thank you,” she said, fervent in a way he couldn't look at right now.

He shook off the haze of lust and emotion welling up in him and found the strength to put a little more space between their bodies. Gesturing down the street, he fought to make his breath even. To not betray the way he'd be more than happy to sack the entire thing and find another way to show his admiration.

“Don't thank me yet.” He managed a crooked smile. “You've never seen me try to do arts and crafts before.”

It was funny—sometimes you had no idea how much you'd missed something until you had it back.

The studio had changed a little in the couple of years since Serena had been there. The girl manning the sign-in book for open studio hours and restocking the kiln was different, and they'd put in a mirrored wall between the two rows of throwing wheels. But the clay-spattered walls were the same dingy white. The block of clay in her hands felt the same as she smacked it into a ball.

It felt
good
, was how it felt. There was a specific kind of satisfaction to making something out of nothing—just dirt and water, fire and heat. So what if she didn't need another bowl or vase or mug? She used to love this.