Page 21 of Meant For Her


  “Did you cut your hair for her?” she prompted, remembering how closely shorn his hair was when they first met.

  He nodded. “I promised her that when she lost her hair because of the chemo, I’d shave my head, too.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. She watched as he pulled up his photo gallery and clicked on an image. He brought up a picture of himself with no hair sitting next to a woman much smaller than him. His arm was thrown over her shoulder in a familiar form of embrace. Although the woman was also bald, she wore a cheerful smile.

  “What was her name?” she asked.

  “Adelaide. Addie.” He scrolled back through the pictures and found another one. “Here she is before the chemo.”

  She’d had long brown hair, Sierra observed. Evan had inherited her dark blue eyes and the shape of her mouth. It was clear they were mother and son. In the picture, she was wearing an L.A. jersey and hugging him in his uniform.

  “She’s beautiful,” she said.

  He stared at the picture for another moment, then let the screen go dark. “She was supportive when I got traded to L.A., but I know she wasn’t thrilled about it. Neither was I. It made it harder for me to see her while she was going through her treatments. I talked to her on the phone every day, but it wasn’t enough. I should have quit baseball and stayed with her.”

  “No, Evan,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Your mom wouldn’t have wanted that. She was so proud of you. I could see that in the picture. I’m sure it would have broken her heart if you’d tossed aside your dream for her.”

  For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He drank the rest of the wine in his glass and set it aside. When his eyes lifted again to hers, she saw the emotion there. It dealt a huge blow to her composure.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But at least I would have been there when she died.”

  Chapter 37

  Evan expected the words to hurt more when he spoke them. They’d been blades in his heart for the past ten months, after all. Oddly, though, he felt relieved.

  He’d also dreaded seeing the pity on Sierra’s face. Throughout the process of claiming his mother’s body and making the arrangements for her funeral, that was what he remembered…looks of pity from friends and professionals, none of whom knew his mother like he did.

  Sierra didn’t have pity in her eyes, though. She had tears of genuine sadness, as though she was taking his pain and making it hers.

  “Did she die unexpectedly?” she asked.

  Looking down at their joined hands, he nodded. “Things were going well. The cancer was responding to the treatment. I was in L.A. when I got a call. She’d had a heart attack.”

  A tear slid down Sierra’s cheek. He welcomed it. She could shed the tears he wouldn’t.

  “She’d had a rare reaction to the chemo drugs. They had weakened her heart to a point where they couldn’t save her after the attack.”

  The server approached. Sierra dabbed at her eyes with her napkin and drank some of her wine as their salads were placed in front of them. He picked up his fork, surprised to find that he had an appetite.

  When they were alone, Sierra said, “So you had to deal with the long battle against the cancer, as well as the shock of your mom passing unexpectedly. I know she wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”

  He paused in mid-chew. All this time, he’d borne almost crippling guilt over not having been there for his mother. Not once had he considered how she might have viewed things if she’d still been alive.

  Sierra was right. His mom would have done anything she could to keep him from enduring the pain that her death had caused him. She wouldn’t want him living every day with that pain, either.

  It was something to think about.

  “Where in Australia did you grow up?” she asked.

  He swallowed another bite of salad and washed it down with some water. “I was born in Dandenong, a suburb of Melbourne. I don’t remember much about it. We were only there until I turned three. The first place I remember living was another suburb called Footscray. That’s where I started school. We moved around a lot after that. I think the longest we were in any place was nine months.”

  “Wow. Was your father in the military?”

  “No. He was a womanizing adulterer.”

  He hadn’t meant to be so blunt. Frowning, he drank more water, thinking the glass of wine had loosened his tongue. He knew that wasn’t true, though. Sierra had a strange effect on him.

  She didn’t say anything, just ate her salad and waited for him to go on. Her expression hadn’t changed due to his declaration, so he gave a mental shrug and kept talking.

  “I grew up thinking we were moving because my father couldn’t hold down a job. He didn’t finish high school, so he took work wherever he could get it. Moving so much made it hard for me to make and keep friends. I got into the habit of falling in with the first crowd who would accept me, just so I had someone to hang out with wherever we lived. Most of the time, especially since we lived in poorer areas, that crowd was bad news.”

  “Do they have gangs in Australia?”

  “Yeah. Not as organized as here in the States, but just as dangerous.”

  “Were you…?”

  “No. I was never in a place long enough to get to that level. I ended up serving a stint in JD, though.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “Juvenile Detention? How old were you?”

  “Just shy of thirteen.” He finished his salad. Then, because he knew she was curious, he continued, “The psychiatrist who evaluated me said I was acting on repressed aggression toward my father. Since I’d caught him in bed with another woman a couple of weeks before the incident that got me sent to detention, she was probably right.”

  She set down her fork and took another sip of wine. Since her glass was now empty, he took the bottle from the container beside the table and refilled it.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell your mom about the other woman?”

  She knew him well. “No. I couldn’t do that to her. I was big for a twelve-year-old, but not big enough to take on my father. So when I caught another kid from school picking on someone I considered a friend, I beat the shit out of him.”

  “That makes sense.”

  He blinked. “It does?”

  Their server arrived to clear the salad dishes. He refilled Evan’s wine glass and told them the entrees would be along shortly. Evan barely heard him. He was too busy looking at Sierra.

  Her ageless eyes met his when they were alone again. “You wanted to defend your mother, but you couldn’t. Not really. So you defended the friend instead. Since you were at an age where you were likely going through some huge hormonal changes, you took it too far.”

  Although he didn’t want it, he picked up his wine and drank some. “The kid was in the hospital for a week.”

  “And you served time, got a record that has followed you, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded as though to herself. “How long after you got out of detention did it take before you apologized to the kid you hospitalized?”

  Evan stared at her. How the hell did she know that?

  Not for the first time, he felt uncomfortable with her level of insight. If she was right about this, what else was she right about?

  “Two weeks,” he finally admitted.

  “You saw how much your behavior upset your mom, right?”

  “Yeah. She knew something bigger was at the root of what I’d done. Since I was so young, the psychiatrist talked to my mom about her concerns. My mom ended up putting two and two together. She worked as a waitress, and one day, she decided to go home early.”

  “Oh, no,” Sierra whispered.

  “She saw what I’d seen.”

  The conversation ceased as their server delivered their entrees. Evan couldn’t help but imagine his mother walking in on his father with the woman he’d been doing at the time. They’d never talked about it
. One day, he’d come home from school and knew she’d been crying. She’d said in a calm voice that they’d be moving as soon as she could contact her parents. He’d known immediately why.

  It had broken his heart.

  After that, he’d gotten much more protective of her. In the nine years they’d lived in the States before she was diagnosed with cancer, she’d gone on three dates. He’d grilled her about each guy, making sure he knew as much as he could about them before she went. Looking back, he suspected she might have done more socializing if it hadn’t been for him. It weighed on him, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

  “You know,” Sierra said once they were alone again, “as kids, we don’t understand what our parents go through. We’re in our own worlds. Everything revolves around us. I can’t tell you how many times I asked my mothers why they couldn’t have been straight to save me and Lane the trouble of being picked on.”

  He looked at her as he cut into his steak. “Really?”

  “Yep. Now, I wish I could go back in time and kick my own ass.”

  That made him smile. “I know the feeling.”

  “You want to go back in time and kick my ass, too?”

  His lips twitched. He knew what she was doing. All he could do was appreciate it.

  “How’s your fish?” he asked.

  “Succulent. Want to try some?”

  And just that easily, the conversation switched from the oppressive weight of the past to where they sat now. They each tried some of their entrees, and both agreed that the crab-stuffed grouper was the better choice. Since he ended up eating more of her meal than he’d intended, they decided to order dessert, too.

  “Are you upset about missing the All-Star game tonight?” she asked as she finished her third glass of wine.

  His brow wrinkled. “Honest to God, I completely forgot about it. I guess I can’t be that upset about missing it.”

  She laughed. “Well, I know you transitioned to Atlanta from L.A. mid-season, but I truly felt you deserved the All-Star vote this year. Your performance has been phenomenal, especially in Atlanta.”

  I owe that to you.

  He didn’t say it, but he thought it. He hadn’t even been aware that he’d felt that way until just then. But as the thought ran through his head, he knew it was true.

  After a moment, he just said, “Thanks. But I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than right here.”

  She smiled and took his hand. The combination of her touch and her dimples made his heart leapfrog in his chest. After what he’d gone through the year before, he couldn’t believe he was sitting there experiencing the range of emotion she’d evoked in him that evening.

  “You have that look in your eye,” she said.

  “What look is that?”

  “The look that says you’d rather I wasn’t wearing any clothes at all.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s true enough.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to do with me when we get back to the rental house?” she asked.

  Grinning, he did just that.

  Chapter 38

  They spent another night together doing nothing but bringing each other pleasure, knowing it was the last chance they’d have to do so for quite some time. Sierra didn’t even think about sleep until after three in the morning. By then, they were both worn out enough to pass out.

  It was after ten when she woke up. Evan was already out of bed. She smelled something suspiciously like cooking bacon. Getting up, she pulled on one of the robes offered with the rental and headed downstairs. She found him standing over the stove.

  “Good morning, Evan,” she said.

  She walked up behind him and kissed his muscular back. He had another black ink tattoo stretching across his shoulder blades. Where his chest read, Play as if you’ll live forever, his back read, Live as if you’ll die today. Although she understood the sentiment behind the tattoos, it made her heart hurt to know why he felt that way. She wondered if he could possibly know how much his confessions the previous night meant to her.

  “Good morning, Sierra,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I thought I’d bring you breakfast in bed, but you beat me to the punch.”

  “How about eating on the balcony instead?”

  “Sounds good.”

  That’s what they did, sitting out with their plates and enjoying the lulling sound of the ocean. Evan had stopped at the small convenience store after his morning run and bought bacon, eggs, and English muffins, so Sierra combined hers into a breakfast sandwich. After finishing that and a cup of orange juice, she patted her stomach contentedly.

  “That was delicious,” she said. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. The weather that had plagued Atlanta over the past few days had finally drifted far enough east to reach them. Sierra supposed that was serendipitous enough, considering this special time together was coming to an end.

  “You leave tomorrow for your next road trip, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Chicago, then New York.”

  She nodded. She’d started checking their schedule online. It was going to be a long week without him, but she didn’t want to make him feel bad by saying so.

  “I’ll miss you while I’m gone,” he said, making her smile.

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  They went inside to wash their dishes. The rain started as they finished drying the dishes and putting them away.

  “So much for a walk on the beach before we go,” Evan said as he put the last plate away.

  “Oh?”

  Sierra looked out the windows. She hadn’t heard any recent thunder or seen any lightning. She took his hand.

  “Come on,” she said.

  He didn’t argue. They made their way down the ramp to the beach. The rain fell, steady and cool, drenching them both. Sierra led him to the water, laughing as they reached the foaming surf. She turned and put her arms around him. It took her a few blinks to clear her eyes so she could look up at him, but her smile was wide when she did.

  “My parents have always said that life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass,” she told him. “It’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

  She wasn’t sure whether what she’d said truly got through to him, but he swayed with her when she started shifting in a basic form of dance. After a moment, he positioned her left hand on his shoulder, took her right hand, and started moving.

  A laugh escaped her. “Where did you learn to waltz?”

  “Americans learn to square dance in school,” he said. “I learned to waltz.”

  Happiness sang through her as they spun, moving between the shallow surf and the rain-dampened sand. Her feet barely touched the ground. Although he did most of the work, she was soon giddy and breathless.

  Eventually, they stopped and just hung onto each other. Laughter bubbled out of her. He looked down at her for a long moment, rain dripping from his hair into his gorgeous eyes.

  He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was hot, heavy. If they hadn’t just spent hours making love the night before, she would have thought he was desperate for her.

  Maybe he was.

  Putting her arms around him, she sank into the kiss, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with hers. A moan built in the back of her throat, escaping when his mouth moved to her neck. When his hands parted the folds of her robe, she leaned into his touch.

  That was as much as he allowed himself while they were still outside and in potential public view. He lifted her, walking with her back into the house. She kissed him again, doing her best to reach the skin under his soaked T-shirt. She wasn’t sure what he was seeking, but she hoped she could give it to him.

  They made it as far as the living room rug. His kiss increased in urgency as he lowered her to the floor. The belt to her robe couldn’t get untied fast enough to suit him, resulting in a knot around her waist. She ended up with her arms pinned to her
sides by the damp sleeves of the robe where he’d pulled it down so he could reach her bare skin. His leg moved between her thighs, exposing her to his touch. When he gave her a few testing strokes with his skilled fingers, he produced another moan from her. He issued a growl of approval.

  She was so focused on his kiss that she gasped when he entered her. Her eyes flew open, meeting his burning gaze. They both knew he hadn’t put on any protection.

  “Sierra, I…”

  He couldn’t finish the sentence. Understanding, she met his lips for another kiss, lifting her lower body to accept more of him. She took birth control, so she wasn’t worried in that respect.

  He wanted—needed—this level of intimacy with her.

  She wanted to give it to him.

  They moved together in what was now a well-practiced rhythm. Without anything to reduce the sensitivity, he was soon quickening the pace. Just knowing how hot he was getting because of their connection sent her desire spiraling, and soon, she crested, feeling as though she was drawing him into her very core.

  “God, yes,” he shouted, stiffening against her, the muscles in his chest and neck going taut.

  She held him, feeling his shudders of pleasure blend with her own. For that moment, they were truly one.

  Eventually, he lifted himself up on his elbows. She watched his expression clear as though he’d just been freed of a spell. His eyes met hers.

  “I’m sorry,” he began. “I’ve never done that before. I don’t know what—”

  “It’s okay,” she said, placing a hand over his lips. “I use my own protection, too. I wanted this as much as you did.”

  What she didn’t ask was what had driven him to that point. She suspected she wouldn’t like what he’d have to say, even though she knew it in her heart.

  In his mind, this was the last time he’d allow himself to be so free with her in every way that mattered.

  * * *

  They stopped by Regina and Deanne’s house on the way home. Evan didn’t say much on the drive, lost in his thoughts. Sierra didn’t seem to mind, though. Much like she had on the drive to Savannah, she listened to the radio and left him alone.