“Remodeling your bathroom, are you?”
“So this is Meredith then?”
“Like you couldn’t recognize my voice.”
He chuckles and I hear him swallowing. God, I bet his throat looks amazing when he drinks water.
“You said I should call,” I begin a bit uncertainly.
“Yes, I did. Do you have plans tonight?”
I look around my bedroom and laugh in spite of myself. “Yes, I’m in bed working.”
“Hmm, dancing in bed is always fun.”
“No, the business side of it, funny guy.” Oh, how I’ve missed this funny side of him. “I was going to call it an early night.”
“Running in the morning?”
“You remember my running routine?” I ask in surprise.
“I remember everything, M.”
I bite my lip as tears fill my eyes. “Me too.”
“I work tomorrow,” he mutters and I can just hear the wheels turning in his head. “But I am free tomorrow night and I have the day after off.”
“My schedule is the same,” I reply.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening around seven?”
I pause, the words come over now hovering on my tongue, but I suppose I can wait until tomorrow to see him.
I’ve waited for ten freaking years.
“Mer?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
“Wait, I need to give you my address.”
“You’re not at your mom’s?”
“No, I sold the house. I’m in Seattle. Jax and I share an apartment not far from the studio. It’s easier.”
“You share an apartment with Jax?” His voice is suddenly harder and I can’t help but smile in satisfaction.
I’m not the only one who’s jealous.
“Yes, we do. Different bedrooms, M.”
“Okay. Text me your address and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Are you sure about this?” My voice is quiet.
“Never been more sure.”
“Okay.” I nod once. “It’s a date.”
Chapter Three
~Mark~
Twelve hours. I only have to get through the next twelve hours and I’ll have Meredith all to myself.
Jesus, I’m so fucking nervous it’s ridiculous. I’ve been with my share of women over the past decade, and not one of them made my palms clammy or my stomach clench.
Because they didn’t matter.
And Mer matters.
I pull up to the construction site and park. I’m early, as usual. I want to check the site, progress and quality of work being done before the rest of the crew arrives.
I’ve worked as a site foreman for Isaac Montgomery since I moved back home almost two years ago. I love my job. I’m fucking good at my job. I have an excellent crew, but I don’t put up with bullshit, and they know it.
It works well for us.
Just as I make a full circle around the outside of the multi-million dollar home we’re building just north of Seattle on the coast, Isaac pulls up in his truck.
“Not in your office today?” I ask and cross to him. He’s holding two Starbucks cups and passes one to me.
“On site today. Brynna has the office covered.” He shakes my hand and glances up to the house. “This is coming along nicely.”
“Thanks. I was just about to go inside. Want the grand tour?”
“Let’s do it,” he agrees and follows me through the front entrance. The door hasn’t been hung yet, and when I glance around the inside of the great room, my eyes narrow menacingly.
“Fuck,” Isaac whispers.
Someone snuck in during the night and spray painted one of the walls with gang graffiti. Thankfully, the drywall hasn’t been hung yet either, and we can easily cover this up.
“Fucking kids,” I growl and shake my head.
“I’ll call Matt and have him arrange to have this neighborhood patrolled more regularly,” he says grimly, referring to his younger brother, one of Seattle’s best detectives.
“I’ll make sure the doors and windows are installed today so it’ll be locked up from now on,” I reply.
Isaac nods and follows me as I walk through the eight thousand square foot home.
“This is going to be impressive,” Isaac says.
“I agree. It’s one of the biggest I’ve ever built, that’s for sure.” When we walk back out through the front entrance, we both sit on the temporary concrete steps and sip our coffee. “How are the other sites coming along?”
“No complaints today,” he replies and then shakes his head. “Except that remodel at Alki. The owner has changed her mind on the master shower four motherfucking times.”
“Seriously?” I laugh and sip my coffee. “That sucks.”
“It’s her money.” Isaac shrugs as if he just can’t figure her out. “I’d like to wrap that one up so we can move on to the next.”
“How are Stacy and the kids?”
“Perfect,” he replies easily with a satisfied grin. For the first time in my life, I’m jealous of Isaac and our brothers and their families. “Stacy is beautiful and busy with Soph and Liam.”
I nod and watch as some of the crew begins to pull in, gathering their tool belts and other gear from the beds of their trucks.
“You coming to Will’s on Sunday?” Isaac asks.
“What’s happening on Sunday?”
“Last minute family cookout.” He shrugs and then chuckles. “The weather is heating up, so I think everyone wants to take advantage of being outside.”
“Sounds cool.” I pause and then decide fuck it. “Think it’s cool if I bring someone?”
Isaac’s head whips around and his eyes are surprised when he asks, “Who?”
“An old friend,” I reply softly and then swear under my breath, uncomfortable as fuck at the way he’s watching me. “Meredith.”
“Since when do you bring women to family functions?” he asks incredulously then laughs. “I so want to bust your balls about this, but I’ll be the mature one and simply say, yeah. It’s fine. Will and the others will not let you off the hook so easily, my friend.”
“I don’t care.”
And it’s true. I don’t. I just want her with me.
Jesus, I’m getting way ahead of myself here. We haven’t been out on a date yet.
Patience never was a virtue I possessed.
“I’ll invite her,” I say and crush my empty coffee cup in my fist.
“Is she the reason?” he asks softly and doesn’t turn his head to look at me. He doesn’t clarify, not that I need him to. He just sits quietly and waits for me to answer, watching the cup in his hands.
“Yeah.” My voice is quiet and I sigh deeply. “Once upon a time, she was everything.”
“Good luck, man.”
I nod and stand with him as the others join us on the steps.
“What’s on tap for today, boss?”
“Doors and windows,” I begin and push thoughts of Meredith aside for later as I get to work.
***
I knock on Mer’s apartment door and shift back and forth on my feet. I haven’t been this nervous since the very first time I picked her up for a date early in our Junior year.
I’ve come a long way since then.
Suddenly the door is wrenched open and Jax is standing there with a wide smile.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi. I’m here to pick up Meredith.”
“Mr. Delicious is here for your date, tootsie roll!” Jax yells.
“I’m right here, dork,” Meredith says as she slips under his arm out into the hallway. “Ignore him. He has horrible manners.”
“Have fun,” Jax continues, leaning on the doorjamb with his arms crossed and watching us walk to the elevator. I brace my hand on the small of her back and feel the electricity travel up my arm and down to my groin. After all this time, the chemistry is still here. “You have her home a
t a decent time, now. I’ll leave the light on.”
“Shut up, Jax,” Mer says with a laugh.
“Use condoms!” He calls just as the elevator arrives.
“Oh my God! Shut the hell up, Jax!”
He laughs as the doors close and I can only smile in delight down at her. Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment. Her hair is pulled up in one of her signature messy buns and she’s in jeans and a blue sweater the same color as her eyes.
Jesus, she’s fucking gorgeous.
“You look amazing,” I say and rub a large circle over her slender back.
“So do you,” she murmurs and looks up and down at my plain black T-shirt and jeans. I threw a plaid button down over the T, but her eyes travel to my arms anyway.
She always did have a thing for my arms.
“Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” she replies with a grin. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” I lead her out to my Jeep, help her in and jump in the driver’s side. Before pulling away, I look over at her and consider pulling her in for a quick kiss, but I know that once I start kissing her, I won’t want to stop, and there’s too much to say before we go there.
If she’s interested in going there.
“What’s wrong?” she asks as she clutches her black handbag tightly in her lap, as though she’s as nervous as I am.
“Nothing at all,” I reply with a shake of my head and pull out into traffic toward our old neighborhood. We drive in relative quiet, both lost in our own thoughts, and maybe a little nervous about what we should say. I have so many questions, but for now I’m content to have her next to me as I pull into our special place and cut the engine.
“Our pier,” she whispers softly.
“Yeah,” I reply and turn to her. “I brought dinner. I thought we could sit out here and talk, if that’s okay.”
“It’s going to get cold,” she begins, but I cut her off with a shake of my head.
“I brought extra blankets. We’ll be warm.”
She bites her lip, looks out at the water and the homes along the lake and then back at me with a watery smile. “I love it.”
I brush my knuckles down her cheek and then reluctantly pull away. Jesus, I just want to keep touching her. Everywhere.
I grab the cooler full of dinner from the back and lead her to the end of the dock that we sat on for hours on end more than ten years ago.
“God, how many hours did we spend out here?” she asks, mirroring my thoughts.
“Hundreds,” I reply and spread a thick quilt over the wooden pier, right at the edge and gesture for her to sit. It’s just starting to get dark and the lights around the lake are twinkling. A sailboat drifts by slowly and we wave at the captain. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” she says with a smile. “What did you bring me?”
“Salmon with salad and water and chocolate cupcakes for dessert.”
“Gimme.”
I chuckle and plate her meal, then my own and we eat in silence, watching the water.
“Still quiet out here,” she says.
“Mm.” I nod and watch her as she finishes her fish and salad and sets her plate back inside the cooler then takes my empty plate to join hers. “How are you, M?”
Her hands still for a moment, then she turns to me, pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. “I’m getting better. It’s been a rough few months.”
I nod and frown. “I miss her too. Did she ever tell you that I still came to see her over the years whenever I was in town?”
“No.” She shakes her head sadly. “She knew that talking about you hurt me, so she never brought it up.”
I blink and watch her beautiful face. “I saw her at least once a year. I’d make repairs on the house and help her out in any way I could.”
“Thank you for that,” she whispers. “Mark, I’m sorry for the way it ended—”
“Stop.” I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles. “There’s nothing to apologize for, M. It was a long time ago.”
She nods and bites her lip but then shakes her head and presses on. “No, I need to say this. It’s important to me.” She squares her shoulders and clears her throat and I just lean back on my hands and listen. “I know it’s been a long time, but we never talked after that day, M. I didn’t want to break it off. I knew that that’s what I was doing, but it killed me. I’d been in dance class one day, and I wasn’t concentrating, and the teacher called me out on it. She knew I was daydreaming, and explained that I needed to get my head in the game.” She frowns and shifts like she can’t get comfortable, then shrugs. “I just knew that we were so young, and that if dance was what I wanted, I had to go for it.”
“I get it, Mer.” I push a piece of hair that’s fallen out of her bun behind her ear. “We were young. Chances are we would have broken up eventually. It hurt like crazy at the time, but hindsight is 20/20, right?”
She nods and releases her legs, crossing them in front of her.
“Tell me about New York,” I say unexpectedly, surprising us both, but I realize, I want to know everything about our time apart. Every detail. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
“Really? You want to know?”
“Absolutely.” I let her hand go and take a sip of my water as I watch her gather her thoughts.
“I didn’t want to get on that plane,” she begins softly, her eyes off in the distance, watching the lights of the boats on the water. I can’t look away from her. Fuck, I’m still pulled to her in a way I’ve never been able to explain. It was there when I was seventeen damn years old, and it’s just as strong now. “It was torture, knowing I was leaving you. The first week was scary and so much harder than I ever thought it would be.”
She swallows and glances at me, then back at the boats, like she’s nervous, so I scoot next to her and link her fingers with mine.
“I found an apartment and started dancing right away. From day one, it was twelve to fourteen hour days, dancing pretty much nonstop. I met Jax that first week too.” She smiles as she thinks back on that time. “He was a couple years older, but also new to the area, so we bonded. He has quite the story to tell.” She frowns suddenly and then turns those baby blues up to mine. “Maybe someday he’ll tell you about it. Anyway, we worked pretty much all the time. Classes went late into the evening, so sometimes we’d just sleep there at the studio and then get up in the morning and start all over again.”
Holy shit. I knew it would be a lot of work, but I had no idea it was all-encompassing. Is this what she tried to tell me that day on her porch?
“I thought my body was conditioned for it, but I hurt everywhere for a year solid. My feet, my joints, my mind. I was constantly exhausted. The auditions were nerve-wracking. I ended up in some small parts in shows. I did the Grammys and Tonys and began to make a name for myself in the community.” She smiles proudly and I squeeze her hand.
“I’m so proud of you, M.”
“Thank you. It was a lot of work. Physical and mental. So much fucking competition. And oh my God, the things girls will do for parts! They’ll sleep with anyone!”
I immediately tense up and she laughs. “No, M, not me. But I admit, as I got older and the younger ones would come along, sniffing around a director or producer, my back immediately came up and I was like, ‘Oh no you don’t. You’re not going to sleep your way into my part.’”
“How did you end up touring?” I ask.
“You knew about that?”
“I paid attention,” I reply.
“Jax. He’s an awesome choreographer. The best there is. He choreographed shows for Justin, Beyonce and Pink. And then one day, Starla called.”
She smiles, lost in thought. Starla is a megastar, and I know that Mer toured with her for quite some time.
“Starla wanted Jax to choreograph her Belladonna tour, and he insisted that she hire us both, since we usually work to
gether, especially when it comes to couples choreography, and she agreed. We had that gig for about four years.” She grins and takes a sip of water. “We traveled the world, M. I didn’t see much of it, because we worked so much, but it was fun to perform in front of all of those people every night. And Starla is just spectacular. What a performer. She works just as hard, if not harder than the rest of us.”
“You became friends.”
“We did.” She nods and shivers. I check my watch and realize that we’ve already been here for a couple hours. I grab a blanket for each of us, wrap one around Mer and then one around myself and sit, ready to listen to more. “And then Mom got sick.” Her voice turns softer and more distant, and she’s still watching the water like she’s watching it all play out like a movie. “I knew I had to come home. At first she didn’t want me to. She insisted that she was okay, and honestly if she’d still had Dad or Tiff here, I probably wouldn’t have come home when I did, but she had no one, M.”
I nod and rub her back soothingly, letting her talk.
“I was close to retirement age anyway.”
“You were twenty-seven.” My voice sounds exasperated to my own ears.
“Most dancers peak at twenty-five.” She shrugs, as if it is what it is. “Touring life gets old after a while, and Mom needed me.”
“Why did Jax come with you?”
“He’s older than me, and we’d been together since week one.” She bites her lip and watches me quietly for a moment. “Jax is the closest thing I’ve had to a sibling since Tiff died, M. We’d talked about opening a studio for a long time, and it felt like this was the time. And I’m glad we did. The studio is doing really well.”
“One more thing that I’m proud of you for,” I reply and kiss her knuckles again. “Keep going,” I say.
“Well, that’s pretty much it. The CliffsNotes version, anyway.”
“Will you go on tour again?” I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. Please say no.
“No,” she shakes her head. “That time of my life is done. We have been asked to choreograph Starla’s routine for the VMA’s next month, so we’ll be in LA for a few days for that, but things like that will be hit and miss. Our business is here.”