Leo's Chance

  After a few minutes, our laughter dies and we go still, simply holding each other close, soaking in the moment.

  Finally, I let my grip on her loosen and she slides to the floor, gazing up at me. "What are you doing here, Jake?"

  "I wanted to surprise you. When we talked on Sunday, you told me you were cleaning the penthouse all this week if it was occupied, and my evil wheels started turning. I rented it on Tuesday morning before I left town. How long does it usually take to clean it?"

  "You rented this room so you could spend the time with me it takes to clean it?" she says, furrowing her brow.

  "Yup."

  She looks up at me quietly for a second.

  "Um, how long to clean it? If the guests are really messy, an hour and a half?"

  "They're dirty slobs."

  "Oh, okay, then, maybe I could push it to two hours."

  No time to waste. I start unzipping her dress.

  "What are you doing, Jake?" she asks.

  "Not wasting any time."

  "Um, Jake–" she starts, but doesn’t finish her thought, as I kiss down her neck. That’s fine. There’s plenty of time to talk later.

  She looks at me with heated eyes and a small smile on her lips as she takes my hand and leads me to the upholstered chair on the opposite side of the room. She pushes me down and I watch her, wondering what she has in mind. I was hoping things would lead in a specific direction. Me, Evie, a bed... several days of missing the hell out of her. But I didn’t know if she’d feel comfortable with that while she was supposed to be working. Apparently, she does. Thank God.

  She climbs on top of me, straddling me and takes my face in her hands, looking into my eyes for several beats before lowering her lips to mine, nipping at me and sliding her tongue into my mouth. I smile against her lips. My Evie is finding her inner sex goddess. Something in me roars to life – a fierce possessive pride in the fact that she’s only known my lovemaking, only learned what she knows from me. I take control of our kiss, tilting her head so that I can go deeper into her sweetness, the taste of her exploding on my tongue and making me harder. My body is gripped in an onslaught of desire, my erection swollen to its fullest beneath Evie’s core. I ache to be inside her, to sink into her so deeply that we don’t know where she begins and I end.

  I yank the zipper on her dress down, lowering it until I’ve exposed the smooth skin of her shoulders. I bring my mouth back to hers as I lower it down her arms. When the swell of her hips stops the material from going any further in this position, she breaks our kiss and stands up, keeping eye contact as she lets it fall to the floor.

  My eyes feel heavy, need coursing through me as I lean back in the chair, draping one arm over the back and watching the show which threatens the control I’m barely keeping in check.

  Evie unhooks her bra slowly and lets it slide down her arms and drop to the floor. Her panties are next and she hooks her thumbs through the waistband and just as slowly, drags them down her legs to land on the floor with her bra. She kicks off her shoes and steps out of her panties. My eyes have been following each piece of material as it falls down her body, and now they roam back up over her, standing before me in all her naked perfection. My gaze meets hers and I see hesitation mixed with desire. Somehow the fact that she’s a little nervous makes what she just did all the sexier.

  I reach down and unbutton my pants and take my zipper down, never releasing eye contact with her. I want to reassure her by showing her what she does to me. As I spring my erection free, she finally breaks contact and follows my hand with her eyes. Her eyes turn glassy as I stroke myself. Oh God, that’s not a good idea. I’m barely hanging on by a thread here. The small whimper that comes from Evie’s throat inflames me. "Touch yourself, Evie," I choke out.

  The hesitation I saw in her eyes seems to have vanished. She does what I say immediately, touching her nipples lightly, and then bringing one hand down between the v-shaped, short dark curls and fingering herself as she moans, her lips parting. That thread of control I’ve been holding onto snaps.

  "Fuck! I need to be in you now, baby," I manage, grabbing her by the hips and bringing her back to straddle me again, her knees on the chair next to my hips. I bring her down on top of me, thrusting with my hips in a force that impales her completely. Her internal muscles clench me briefly right before she pulls up and then slams back down on me. Stars blink in my head. Oh God, that’s good. I grunt at the surge of pleasure that streaks down my spine.

  I watch her as she experiments with this new position, riding me, taking her pleasure from my body and it’s so fucking hot that I don’t know if I can hold out much longer.

  As she moves up and down on me, stroking us both toward orgasm, I bring my mouth to her breast, sucking the nipple into my mouth. As I lathe the hardened peak, I roll its twin between my thumb and pointer, and then switch sides. When I lean back, a growl comes up my throat when I see that her nipples are dark and wet from my mouth and her lips are red and swollen from my kisses. For some reason the sight inflames me, a primal satisfaction rising up in me at the evidence of my lovemaking on her body.

  As I feel my climax rising up in me, I grab her hips, guiding her harder and faster, taking what I need. "Christ! Fuck!" I grunt out as the pleasure explodes through me.

  I take her mouth as she begins to peak, kissing her passionately as we both moan and grasp at each other.

  We are still in each other’s arms for several minutes until our breath is steady again.

  "What are you doing to me?" she finally asks.

  I grin at her, chuckling quietly. "What are you doing to me?"

  We clean up, and then fall onto the bed, Evie snuggling into me and squeezing me tightly as I wrap my arm around her.

  "Did you take the red-eye out last night?" she asks. "You must be exhausted."

  "Yeah. I thought I’d get a little sleep on the plane, but I sat next to this guy who wouldn’t stop chattering all night long. He was afraid to fly and I think talking kept him from panicking."

  "Oh God, that’s awful – for both of you!"

  "Yeah. Every time there was even a small bump, he would grab my thigh. Only in his panicked state, his aim wasn’t great every time, and he grazed my ‘boy parts’ more than once."

  She laughs. "That’s probably close enough that you can cross joining the mile high club off your bucket list."

  I laugh too. "Probably."

  "Seriously – is it on your bucket list?" she asks, raising her head and lifting an eyebrow.

  "Nah. But if it’s on yours, I could sacrifice." I grin down at her.

  "I don’t know. I’ve never even flown before. I’ll let you know."

  "Okay."

  I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. "What’s on your bucket list, baby?"

  She’s quiet for a minute, before she says softly, "Having a family."

  My hand, moving slowly up and down her arm stills as her words wrap around me. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted too. With her. Only ever with her.

  She must take my silence as discomfort because she says, "I mean, someday. In the future. If it happens. Not, like–"

  "Evie, stop. You don’t have to qualify your answer. Wanting a family, especially when you’ve never had one is completely understandable."

  She lifts her head and looks up into my eyes, and finally nods. "I just didn’t want you to think I was proposing to you or anything," she says, smiling now and laying her head back on my chest.

  I laugh. "I would have said yes. Just for the record."

  "Good to know," she says with a smile in her voice.

  "But not for less than three carats."

  She laughs. "I knew you were just a gold digger."

  "Hey, a guy’s got to have standards."

  She lifts her head and looks into my eyes, "Sometimes I wonder if I’d even be any good at being a mom. It’s not like anyone ever showed me how."

  I look back at her quietly for a minute. "I think some people ju
st know things in their heart, Evie. You’ll be a great mom," I say, knowing with certainty that it’s true.

  We’re quiet for a few minutes as I resume running my hand up and down her arm, and feel the comfort of her heart beating against my side where she’s curled up.

  Visions of her carrying a baby in her arms, my baby, run through my mind. I pull her tighter to me.

  "Oh, hey, I got you something."

  "What?" she asks, sitting up a little.

  I lean over and grab the jacket that I had placed at the end of the bed when I first came in. I reach into the pocket and take out the small item wrapped in tissue paper and hand it to Evie.

  She takes it, glancing at me with a small smile on her lips. She unwraps it and holds up the small, delicate shell, a smile breaking out on her face. "A shell! I’ve never had a shell! Thank you. Did you find it or buy it?"

  "I found it. At first glance it’s not the fanciest shell around, but do you see the spiral on the side here? It’s called a whorl. See. Ninety-nine percent of whorls go in a clockwise direction. This one is counterclockwise." I pause as she studies it.

  "I took a walk on the beach between meetings yesterday and when I saw the shell, I picked it up for you. Then I noticed its whorl. Never found one like it before."

  She looks down at the shell and traces the spiral with a delicate finger.

  She looks up at me and smiles. "Did you check out a book on shells? How do you know so much about whorls?" She raises an eyebrow.

  I laugh. "No. I don’t know. I just picked up that information somewhere. I can’t even remember where."

  I watch her with a small smile on my face as she looks back at the shell, studying it. I go on. "The thing about sea snails with counterclockwise whorls is that they can only mate with other sea snails whose shells coil in the same direction."

  Her eyes meet mine and she frowns. "How do they ever find a mate if their type only make up one percent of the snail population? Seems impossible."

  I nod. "Well, lucky for the counterclockwise whorled snails, their predators use a hunting technique that only works on their opposites, the more common ninety-nine percent. If their predators try to eat them, they find they can’t and end up dropping them instead. This little guy, his design, the way he’s made, allows him to survive another day. And that’s another day to find his mate. He’s rare, but he’s a survivor, and so is the other sea snail he’s looking for."

  She’s looking at me dreamily as I talk, a small smile on her lips, and I feel hypnotized by her beautiful, dark eyes. She looks down at the shell in her hand and says quietly, "Hmmm… I wonder if this one died before finding his mate. Poor little guy."

  I smile. "I like to think that she was somewhere washed up on that beach, too, and that they had lived a long and happy sea snail life together."

  She smiles back and then looks back down at the shell, tracing the whorls again. When she looks up at me, she says, "This was a nice surprise, Jake. Thank you."

  I hold her on the bed for a while longer before it’s time to get up and straighten the room and let her get back to work. Today’s going to be a long day. I’m exhausted. But it was totally worth it. Completely.

  CHAPTER 26

  After our conversation in the suite at the Hilton, I can’t get the images out of my head of what it would be like to have a family with Evie. I didn’t think a lot about what that would look like when I was fourteen and fifteen, even though I took it for granted that it would happen – and I never let myself go there after that. It would have been unnecessary and torturous. In my mind, I could never have her again. What would be the point of picturing my and Evie’s little brown-eyed kids running around when they would never exist? But now... just talking about the dream of a family with Evie has brought it to life for me. Not just the misty, faraway dream, but also the specific vision. I can’t get it out of my head. She didn’t even say she wanted that with me, but I want to let her know that I want that with her. And I can’t do that without telling her who I am.

  I want to move forward so badly, I can hardly think straight. But, in order to move forward, I have to tell her the truth. She now knows what we can be together. This can’t go on.

  If she decides she doesn’t want to be with me after she knows the truth, I’ve also set her off her path to making her own dream come true. I can’t do that to her for one more day. I love her. I want her to have everything she wants, even if it’s not with me. A flash of fear shoots down my spine at the thought but I steel myself. Do what you know is right.

  I’ve made sure she’s attached to me so that she’s less likely to want to leave. Jesus, how much more selfish could I be? I’m the poster boy for deceitful assholes everywhere. If she hates me even more now, I won’t blame her. Not only am I going to lose her, I’m going to go to hell. The fear and shame I feel churns heavily in my gut.

  I want so badly to tell her I love her, but how can I do that when I’m being so selfish? Love isn’t selfish. I’ve loved her all along, but I refuse to say it to her until she knows my name.

  A week after surprising her at her job, I call Doc while she’s at work.

  "Jake!" he greets me. "How are you?"

  "I’m okay, Doc. Work’s good."

  "And Evie? How are things going with Evie?"

  I haven’t spoken to Doc in person since Evie surprised me that day. I had emailed him a brief note and told him that I had re-connected with her, but nothing beyond that.

  "Good. But Doc," I pause before continuing, "she didn’t recognize me. I lied to her and told her Leo died and I’m someone who knew him."

  There’s a minute of utter silence. I swear I hear a pin drop on the other end of the line. "Jake." He sounds disappointed. Fuck.

  "I know, Doc. I know. Believe me, I know."

  "And you still haven’t told her the truth? Why?"

  "Because I’m a worthless coward who took what I wanted. And I wanted her, and I thought that was the only way I could keep her from leaving. I panicked and I lied, and now… I know I have to tell her but I’m so fucking scared. See, a worthless coward."

  He sighs. "Son, you’re not a worthless anything. But you know you have to tell her the truth so you give her a real choice. Give her the choice to choose you or not, the real you."

  "And if she doesn’t choose me?" My voice almost cracks but I pull it together.

  "Then you know you did what's right and you show your love for her by letting her go. You respect her by letting her choose the life she wants and letting her decide what she can forgive."

  We’re both silent for a couple seconds when he asks, "You on the right path, kid? Do you feel at peace inside?"

  I’m silent for a second. "No." I sigh, running my hand through my hair. I’m so close though…

  "Step back on it then. Tell her the truth."

  I let out a sigh. "Okay. I know this, I do. Just doing it is..."

  "The right thing is not always the easiest thing. But I believe in you. I believe you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. But you already know that." I hear the smile in his voice.

  "Okay, Doc. Hey, I gotta run – thanks, okay?" I need to hang up before the lump in my throat rises any further.

  "Okay, Jake. You can do this."

  "Okay. Bye Doc."

  "Bye, son."

  That Friday night I make love to her in the dark, pouring all my emotions into worshipping her body. I acknowledge that I’m attempting to memorize every part of her in case I have to use my memories to last a lifetime. I’m going to tell her tomorrow. She’s made dinner plans for tomorrow night with her friends, and I can’t let this go on any longer than I already have.

  I hold her in my arms that night until she falls asleep, and then I lay there in the dark, letting her scent and the feel of her soak into my soul. Will this be the last time I get to do this? Will I be able to make her understand? Will she be able to forgive me?

  Finally, I ease myself out from under her sleeping body, and g
o out to the kitchen and pour myself a drink and take it out on the balcony. The fresh air clears my head and the alcohol starts making me sleepy after a little bit. I’m about ready to return to bed when I feel Evie’s arms wrap around me from behind. "Can’t sleep?" she asks in a sleepy voice.

  "Yeah. I thought a nightcap would help. Go back to bed, baby. I’ll join you in a minute."

  "Okay," she agrees, giving me a little squeeze and walking back to bed.

  I had arranged a spa day for Evie the week before, thinking it would be nice for her to relax before we went out for dinner. I don’t cancel it the next morning. I want her to enjoy this, and I realize I’m buying myself a few more hours. A few more hours when I can still call her mine.

  We get up and eat a light breakfast and she leaves for the spa. I shower and pull on jeans and a t-shirt before returning to the living room to wait for her. I do some work on my laptop for a few hours, but it’s hard to focus and so finally, I put it away and simply sit. I don’t try to figure out what to say when she gets back – the exact order of the words won’t matter. I don’t even know if she’ll let me explain beyond who I am and that I’ve been lying to her all this time. Will she cry? Will she be angry? Slap me? I hope she does. I deserve it. I feel nauseous and scared, but I know what I have to do and I’m going to do it. I’m scared, but resolved.

  The buzzer from the front desk startles me and I snap out of the trance I’ve been in for the last hour. I pick up and the other front deskman, Carl, says into the phone, "Mr. Madsen, Ms. Cruise is downstairs. She looks... unwell. Shall I send her up?"

  "Yes, of course," I say, putting my own emotions aside as worry for her grips me. She was supposed to text me so I could send a car for her. Did something go wrong at the spa?

  When the elevator door opens, Evie steps off, looking pale and shell-shocked.

  My heart stops. "Evie, baby, what's wrong?" I ask, putting my arms around her and leading her into my condo.

  I close the door behind us and turn her toward me, taking her face in my hands. "Evie, talk to me, love, what's wrong?" My eyes roam up and down her body, looking for an injury of some sort, something to explain the look on her face.