Authors: Faith Andrews
The cries start to ease up, but she’s still holding on for dear life.
Declan pats her back, cupping her head of blond ringlets. “Grams and Gramps might come by too, sweet girl.”
Charlie’s head pops up and spins around. Her lashes are stuck together with tears, but her blue eyes are bright at the mention of Grams and Gramps. She loosens her grip on my neck and shimmies her way down my body to the floor.
Cara holds out her hand and Pinky Bear for her sister. The two share a hug and it makes my own eyes tear up. At least they have each other. “Girls, can I have a big hug and kiss before I go?”
Charlie stands, wilting against her sister. “You come in, Mommy?”
Oh, no not the lips again.
I need to forget the lips. I’m not exactly comfortable making myself at home in Declan’s new digs.
I squat down to her eye-level, holding her soft, beautiful hands in mine. Suddenly my plans for the day seem trivial in comparison to spending time with my babies. “Mommy has an appointment, Charlie. Why don’t you let Cara bring you in? Daddy told me he has chocolate milk in the fridge. That always makes you feel better, doesn’t it, baby?”
Declan gives me a sideways glance, “Mia, you’re more than welcome to come in for a little while, get them settled.”
I just can’t. Not only will it be weird, but it will only prolong the inevitable. She’ll never let me leave without hysterics once I set foot in there. I do appreciate the offer. The softness in his voice tells me he doesn’t hate me after all. “Thanks, Declan, but I really do have to get going.” I turn to the girls, clutching each of their chins. “Mommy will be back tomorrow. It’s just like when you sleep at Nana and Papa’s; stars with them, sun with me. But this time it’s Daddy! How lucky are you girls? You get to have your own special time with him.” I drop my voice down to an exaggerated whisper, making them think I have a special secret for their ears only. “Daddy’s afraid of the wicked witch. You have to hold his hand when she appears, okay? Don’t make him watch it all alone tonight.”
Cara busts out in an adorable, belly jiggling giggle. Charlie looks at her sister and follows suit. “Okay, Mommy. We’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.” Cara nearly topples me over with a hug and Charlie, who’s still holding her big sister’s hand, joins us.
“I love you girls. Be good for Daddy.”
“We will, Mommy. Bye.” They run off into the strange house and even though I’m at ease knowing they are okay with my departure, I can’t help feeling a little heartbroken.
Declan lags behind, watching me get back into the car. “What are you doing, Mia? Don’t you miss our family?”
Whoa! Where the hell did this come from?
“Excuse me?” I jump to the defensive. Who is he to question me about what
I’m
doing. What the hell has he been doing for the last two months? I almost wish he’d tell me he’s been seeing someone else. At least then I’d know there was a reason he’s been staying so far away. But the silent treatment, the not knowing, it’s worse than anything else. And there I go jumbling emotions again! Defensive, then heartbroken…will I ever get it straight?
“When is this little game of yours going to be over? Aren’t you tired of pretending to be someone you’re not?”
His questions sound like pleas. But his expression is still empty. Does he care or doesn’t he? Is it because he feels bad for the girls or because he wants me back? I am so angered by the lack of emotion in his once vibrant eyes that I don’t care what he wants right now. He should be fighting for me, begging, pleading to get me back. But instead he just stands there seemingly...annoyed…and that’s not going to cut it.
I slam the driver’s door shut, glaring at him through an open window. “Yeah, I am tired of pretending, Declan. I’m tired of feigning perfection. I thought our family
was
perfect, until you stopped fighting for us. And now I’m just tired of pretending you give a shit.” My hands grip the steering wheel again. I might need to count to fifty this time to calm down. “The girls are waiting for you, Dec. You should go inside.”
I wait for him to say something, the empty space between us measured by deafening silence. But he doesn’t say anything. He just clenches his jaw, swallowing hard. I can’t read his mind. I won’t make a decision like this based on what I’m thinking he’s thinking. So instead, I throw the car in reverse and leave.
“You okay, Mi? You seem distracted tonight.”
Noah’s taken me to a place called Sharky’s. I’d never been but always heard of the place, an Irish pub known for its endless list of brewed-on-site beers. What I didn’t know is that it’s also our town’s version of The Alibi: open mic night, live bands, things that remind me of Declan. And between our little run-in at his place and the painful reminders of him at this place, I guess you could say I’m pretty distracted.
But I can’t exactly tell him that, so I pretend everything is as perfect as it’s been for the last two months. “Everything’s fine. Just thinking about Charlie. She was a little upset when I left her today.”
And her father accused me of playing games, but yeah, I’m fine.
“Oh. I’m sorry. Want me to take you home? It’s not too late. Maybe you can pick them up and bring them home.”
He’s always so sweet. Always putting my needs before his own. Like the fact that he hasn’t once bugged me about not sleeping with him yet. I’ve placated him with other things, and damn if the act of placating isn’t pretty damn enjoyable, but he’s patient and kind and I probably don’t deserve him. And after the shit with Declan tonight—I mean, he isn’t exactly professing his love, so what the hell am I waiting for? Divorce papers?
Yup, that’s exactly what I’m waiting for.
Screw it!
“Absolutely not. The kids are fine. I’m fine. Now stop worrying before I give you something to worry about.”
He cocks his head to the side, with that smoldering stare that makes me want to jump his bones right here. “Like what?”
“I’ll put your name on the list for open mic. I’ve always had a fantasy of you singing
Sex and Candy
.” I’ve had so many fantasies about Noah it’s hard to keep track.
His head snaps back as he laughs so hard a few of the other patrons gawk in our direction. “Well, that’s a first. But I can’t hold a tune to save Ferris. Why don’t you go up there, though?”
“No. Not my thing. I’d rather watch.” I shoot him a playful, devious wink.
What am I doing?
Is this what Declan meant about pretending to be someone I’m not?
“Mia, why is it that everything you say has the kinkiest subtleties? You know you drive me insane, right?”
See, now
this
man makes his feelings clear. Rather than being vacant, his eyes are dark, heated, fueled with a burning want. His lips are curled up in the most delectable grin as he licks them, driving me pretty insane myself. And his hands—they never leave me. His body is always in contact with mine somehow, letting me know he can’t get enough. Why is it so easy for him to show me how much he wants me after only two months but so difficult for Declan after ten years? Is that just the pathetic truth behind every marriage? How sad.
I put my finger up to get our waitress’ attention. The desire for sex that’s radiating off Noah is making me way too hot. “I need some water. This beer is doing wicked things to my judgment.”
“Good.”
“What!?!” I can’t help sounding surprised.
He laughs again, but this time he’s nervous. “No, I didn’t mean good like that.” He brings a hand to his forehead, dragging it down the length of his gorgeous face. “I meant I wanted to talk to you about something and maybe the alcohol will loosen you up a little. Make you have an open mind.”
Oh, God. This sounds serious. Wasn’t I just basking in the glory of the unserious nature of me and Noah? “Okay?” I drag out the word, terrified of what’s about to come next.
Noah takes my hands, caressing my knuckles, scaring the crap out of me with his unspoken intentions. “Don’t look at me like that, Mia. I’m not about to propose or anything like that, but I do have a proposition for you. Can you hear me out?”
Propositions are serious. Can I hear him out? I just might rather listen to the woman on stage, murdering Beyonce’s
Irreplaceable.
I can only muster up a nod, telling him to go on.
“I’ve been asked to donate my time and expertise to Habitat for Humanity. The supervisor of this particular site reached out to me after seeing some of my work. He was really enthusiastic about getting me on board. At first I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it because the summer is our busiest time of year, but when my partner told me he’d man the ship for us so that I could help out, I pretty much jumped at the chance. I’ve always wanted to help out with an organization like this and the community they’re building is in a dream location. The opportunity was too hard to pass up. So I didn’t.”
The excitement Noah is exuding is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It confirms what I’ve learned about him in this short time. He’s an all around wonderful man. “That’s amazing, Noah. Sounds like quite the opportunity. I’m genuinely excited for you.” But I’m left wondering—what’s this have to do with the proposition he mentioned?
“The job’s in San Diego and it starts in a few weeks. I want you to come with me.”
Ho-ly-sha-it!
What the hell do I say to that? I can’t even think of a thing. He clearly hasn’t thought this through. “Noah...the kids. I...”
“Bring them. We’ll be car rides away from the zoo, Sea World, Disney. We can take them anywhere they want to go. They’ll have the time of their lives.”
Okay. Maybe he did think this through. A little. But the idea of uprooting the kids, bringing them across the country and away from their Dad... “Noah. It sounds amazing...and I’m so touched that you’ve thought of the kids but...”
“Don’t. Don’t make your decision now. I know you have to think about it, and...all I want you to do is think.” Those eyes again. So full of hopefulness, eagerness. It’s hard not to be impulsive and pounce on his thoughtful proposition.
Instead of being rash, I fake equanimity. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Mia, I know our relationship isn’t the norm, but...you have no idea how happy you’ve made me these last two months. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. I just wanted you to know that.”
Oh, Geez!
I’ve wanted to hear those words from Noah Matheson for as long as I lived. But now that he’s said them, I’m not sure what to do with them. I want to reciprocate by telling him the same, but I can’t lie. I have some strong feelings for Noah, but I’m not ready to throw everything else away and belong to someone else entirely.
I need more time.
“I know I’m piling on all kinds of crazy shit tonight. Let’s not think about it right now. Sleep on it. Take your time. I just wanted you to know where I stand.”
I open my mouth to tell him that I will take it all into consideration when I sit down to make my decision, but I’m distracted by a familiar voice over the sound system.
I turn to face the stage, feeling deluded, like I’m in a dream. But when I see Declan standing there with the mic in his hand, staring at me holding another man’s hands, my heart goes into shock, unable to beat. I can’t bring myself to look away, even though my hands are anchored to the table by Noah’s tight grip.
What the hell is he doing here? How did he know I was here?
I look to my left, and see Grace smirking at the bar.
Fucking traitor.
I’ll never tell her my plans ever again as long as I live. But I don’t have time to think about how furious I am with her because the lights dim and the music starts and the mood at this table for two is suddenly quite painful.
Declan’s voice reverberates over the sound system like a fallen angel’s. The angst in his tone is evident in the very first lyric that escapes his mouth. The song by Lifehouse comes from our dating days; it reminds me of fooling around in my dorm room, falling in love. The soft, whisper-like lines to the beginning of the song bring back so many different emotions. But when the chorus builds and Declan’s raspy, seductive tone wafts through the room, the lyrics take over my body, saying for him everything I’ve wanted to hear for the last six months.
Cause you’re all I want! You’re all I need! You’re everything! Everything!
I wanted him to fight for me. Here he is fighting the only way he’s ever known how. They weren’t kidding when they said be careful what you wish for. I just wish I knew what the hell I’m going to do now. The word “torn” comes to mind, but torn doesn’t even begin to cover it. My heart feels like it’s being ripped apart and tugged in two different directions.