Miracle Pie (22 page)

Yes! Her tight muscles relaxed, the tension
seeping out. It was an effort to keep her spine straight as she
searched for a parking spot. There weren’t any, and she parked in
front of a fire hydrant in front of the next building. Let Chicago
fine her. Right now she didn’t care.

In the rear view mirror, she saw Gabe stride
away from the apartment building, a red brick rectangle that looked
like an institutional building, not a place where people lived.

She opened the car door then hung onto it
after she stepped out. Her legs were trembling. Her whole body
trembled.

“Hey.” Gabe held out his arms. “You made
it.”

She couldn’t smile. Instead she fell into
his open arms, closed her eyes and breathed him in. Being in his
arms, feeling cherished, made the six-hour drive worthwhile. Even
getting lost inside the city was worth it. Even though she’d called
him three different times to guide her because monkeys had a better
sense of direction than she did.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“It will go away.” She pushed back just far
enough to look at him—his smiling blue eyes, his sweet, full lips,
his nose that wasn’t perfect and his wavy hair.

She reached up and curved her hand on his
hair. “I’m with my angel now.”

His grin widened, dimples creasing his
cheeks. “If you knew my thoughts, you’d call me a very naughty
angel. Let’s park your car in the garage then get your stuff and go
inside.”

“There’s a garage?” She allowed him to tug
her back to the car.

“There’s one space. Okay if I drive?”

“If I had to drive again today, I might want
to shoot myself.”

He headed toward the driver’s seat while she
hurried to the passenger side. Once inside, she asked, “You took
your SUV out of the garage for me?”

“Don’t worry, I expect to be
compensated.”

She smiled, not ready to laugh yet. “I
brought apple pie.”

“It’s not pie I had in mind. Something more
tasty.” He turned the key and the engine purred.

Ten minutes later they stood in an apartment
with furniture in shades of turquoise and fuchsia. On the wall were
framed photos of different flowers. From where she stood, she could
see the small kitchen.

“This isn’t yours,” she said.

“A friend is shooting a film in Canada, and
she let me stay here. You don’t like the colors?”

“I do. Just not on such a grand scale.”

“It kind of hurts my eyes,” he said. “But
then I look at you and I’m healed.”

She melted inside. Still sore at heart,
still tired, but when she looked at him, it felt like the wrong
tilt in the world had righted itself.

“Hungry?” he asked. “I have pizza. Do you
remember Chicago pizza?”

“I remember being hungry often.” She spoke
slowly, the memories coming back in small pieces instead of the
whole picture. She remembered being left alone and scared a lot,
too, but didn’t say it. Since she’d lived with her dad, she’d had a
wonderful life. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself.

He caressed the back of her head, his hand
sliding over her hair. “I wish I lived somewhere else so you
wouldn’t have to relive the bad times.”

She wanted to tell him that she was fine,
but a wave of tiredness crashed down on her, and she closed her
eyes and swayed. He gripped her arm, and her eyes snapped open.

“You need to lie down.” His voice roughened
with worry. “Alone. At least for now.”

She couldn’t even pretend to smile. The
grief had hit her again. Hard. Happy had four legs and a tail, but
that didn’t mean Katie didn’t mourn her. It didn’t mean Happy
deserved less than a person. After all, how many people loved as
well and as unconditionally as a dog?

Gabe guided her to a decent-sized bedroom
with a turquoise and purple bedspread that she imagined made Gabe
laugh when another guy would toss it on a chair, too feminine for
him.

Right now it looked good to her. She kicked
off her shoes then crawled beneath the cover. As she dropped her
head on the pillow, it came to her that she could sleep now because
she felt safe with Gabe. The man who could do no wrong.

He adjusted the cover around her neck.
“While you’re here, you could see your mother. It might be good for
you.”

Her eyes closed tight, she turned her head
away from him.

He could do wrong after all.

Chapter Forty

When she woke up the fading sunlight cast a
golden glow on the turquoise and purple color scheme, and it felt
like a world out of a fairy tale. Especially with Gabe smiling at
her with warmth that heated her inside and out. He made her feel
treasured.

She wasn’t ready to go out and face reality
and was glad when he ordered pizza. In twenty minutes the pizza was
delivered, and they ate at the small dining room table. It only
took one bite for Katie to agree that Chicago pizza was superior to
Fabrini’s. The red wine went down easily, but she limited herself
to one glass.

“Ready for pie?” He gathered the plates,
refusing her help, as if he knew she felt as if she were floating
on a cloud. It was a great ride, but clouds were fragile. Unstable.
Any moment she could fall off.

Right now, though, she wanted to enjoy the
cloud.

But more than the cloud, she wanted to enjoy
Gabe.

“I didn’t come here for pie,” she said. “I
can have a piece later.”

“Later?” His eyes sparked as if inside him a
small fire burned.

She stood, and it was another part of the
dream. A fantasy that was coming true.

She hoped not. She wanted the real
thing.

“If you want your pie first...” She trailed
off as he stepped toward her.

His kiss was light at first. Tender. And for
no reason, the tears started to fall even as she melted against
him. Because she was melting inside, too.

“You’re crying.” His voice husky, he pulled
away and wiped a tear from her cheek with his index finger, then
put it in his mouth and licked it. “We’ll do this another
time.”

“Now.” She took his hand and pulled it to
her. “We’ll do it now.” She put his index finger in her mouth and
watched him as she sucked on his fingertip. Watched as the flame in
his eyes burned brighter. Watched as he pulled his finger from her
mouth. Watched as he put his arm around her shoulders and led her
to the bedroom.

Inside the bedroom they undressed quickly.
Knowing the drill. Clothes off. Loving on.

He kissed her, this time not gentle. Hard
and fast before he put his arm around her and started toward the
bed. She held back and hit the light switch.

“I want to watch you as we make love,” she
said.

Still holding onto her, he made a noise in
his throat that sounded like a growl, and she laughed. Feeling
strong again, with a hunger for him so great it made her want to
devour him.

In his face she saw his tension, as if an
inferno roared inside him. As if he burned for her as much as she
hungered for him. Needed her as much as she needed him. To fill
her. To love her.

Her body started to shake from all the need.
It was too much. Too much for herself, and too much to put on any
man.

She tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t
release her. They tumbled together onto the bed, and this man who
was always so gentle was on top of her, holding her tightly,
breathing harshly, pressing his erection against her.

Or was that her, holding him tightly,
breathing harshly, wrapping her legs around him?

“Now,” she said. “Now.”

“Are you sure?” his voice ground out.
Beneath her hands on his back, she felt his heated skin. Beneath
her heels on his ass she left his tension. Beneath his erection,
she felt as if she were going to fall apart.

“Now!”

He entered her. No foreplay needed. Small
sounds came from both of them. She didn’t know what came from who
and she didn’t care. This primal release, this satisfaction, this
ecstasy, over and over again, was all she needed.

It seemed to last forever, her sensitive
pulse points exploding with every in and out motion. She cried out
and cried out and held on, her fingers digging into the backs of
his upper arms.

And then it was his turn to cry out as he
shuddered inside her and she let out a small scream, holding him
even tighter.

He subsided on top of her, letting himself
down slowly. Even in that most intense moment taking care of
her.

His breathing was uneven and harsh in her
ear as she thought,
I hope he doesn’t say he loves me. It would
be too much.

He didn’t say it. And neither did she. But
they held onto each other as if they were the reincarnation of
Romeo and Juliet, older and wiser, but still afraid someone was
going to tear them apart.

And that story didn’t have a happy
ending.

Chapter Forty-one

The hall light spilled into the bedroom and
Gabe watched Katie sleep, still smelling like him. He probably
smelled like her—like great, sweaty sex—and should shower, but he
didn’t move, not ready to leave her.

Love.

He wasn’t ready for it, not now when he was
just getting his life together, but it had come to him. He knew in
Miracle that he loved her, but he’d left anyway. Now she was here,
and all he could think was
How long before she leaves
?

Finally he got up, used the bathroom,
cleaned the kitchen. Once that was done, he hesitated. Then he
walked to the small office next to the bedroom. Close enough to
hear Katie if she called out for him.

He needed to edit the videos he’d shot today
and email them to the two sets of parents. He wanted to hold her
all night, but he’d left Miracle to do these videos. Katie was here
with him, but that hadn’t changed.

She had her pie magic, and he...there was no
magic in what he did, but there was a lot of heart.

These videos felt right. As if this was what
he was supposed to do.

Being with Katie felt right, too. As if she
was the one person in the world he would love completely.

Katie used to believe he was an angel. If
that were so, God was in heaven laughing at the trick he’d played,
giving him two loves that might split his heart in two.

Chapter Forty-two

Katie looked less wan in the morning, more
color in her cheeks. He’d done that with his lovemaking, he
thought, even as he laughed at himself. As if he had a magic
penis.

More likely it was the apple pie they were
eating for breakfast.

“What does my pie make you think of?” she
asked when they were done.

“Miracle.”

Her eyes widened and she looked
startled.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me. What do you call this pie?”

“It’s the Home Pie. When you eat it, you
think of home.”

He looked down at his plate, only crumbs
left. She laid her hand lightly on his forearm, wordlessly calling
his attention to her. He shifted his gaze to her face.

“Your pie is wrong.”

Her eyelids lowered halfway down, closing
off her thoughts from him.

“Miracle is a place for me to visit because
you live there.” He put his right hand over hers. “It will never be
home for me. To do what I do, I need to be in a bigger city.”

“Of course.” She smiled with her lips but
not her eyes. He drew his hand from hers and she immediately slid
hers off his arm.

He felt cold. Bereft. As if something had
changed between them.

“Are you showing me your webisodes?” she
asked, her voice bright.

“You still want to see them?”

She stood and leaned forward to kiss him.
Her hair swung past his cheek and his ear, brushing his shoulder.
Pulling back, she said, “That means yes.”

He carried one of the dining table chairs
into the office he’d set up a couple days ago in the second
bedroom. It took him a minute to get the video up. So far he had
filmed seven kids. She’d seen the first one, so he started with the
second. As she watched, tears formed in her eyes to be driven away
by a smile and even laughter that was soon drowned out by more
tears.

When the last webisode was over, her hand
was pressed over her mouth and she still stared at the screen where
a bald twelve-year-old girl with no eyebrows smiled at them.

“These kids...” Her voice broke.

“I know.” Emotion filled him, too. Pride for
these videos. And for the kids he felt too much—too much pride, too
much empathy. A good filmmaker was supposed to put something like
this together with some distance. But when he filmed these kids
there was no distance. Twenty-four years ago he’d been one of them,
and it was a miracle that he was alive and making these films.

“My boyfriend is a genius,” she said.

“Your boyfriend?” His lips curved up and he
felt the smile all the way down to his toes.

“Can you think of a better word?”

“Lover.”

She laughed and leaned toward him. They
kissed, and his cell phone buzzed on the desktop. Still holding
her, he picked it up and saw the name of a parent who’d said she
needed to talk to her husband and would get back to him.

A weight settled in his chest. The real
world was calling. “I have to take this.”

She nodded and he walked into the kitchen
and talked a few minutes, then called Taz. Taz had gotten a job
with an indie director who was a stockbroker during the day and a
filmmaker in the evening. Taz told Gabe the movie was about
vampires and zombies in the Chicago Stock Exchange. His expression
deadpan, Gabe said it might be too realistic to be fiction.

So far Taz was available during the day.
Gabe felt as if everything was finally coming together for him.

Even the woman he loved had come to Chicago
to be with him.

He didn’t know why he felt like any moment a
lightning bolt might strike him and rip apart his world.