Courting the Clown (18 page)

“I missed you too,” she whispered, the true extent of her feelings filling up her chest. She blinked as a tear threatened to break out of one eye. She heard him breathe, and closed her eyes, imagining the warm puff of air on his neck, his heart beating under her palms. “I did miss you, Nick.”

It was a long day. A long afternoon, but then it was almost six and she’d changed clothes three times. When the doorbell rang, she was ready, and Lazarus followed her to the door, rubbing against her ankles.

Nick was holding flowers. Tiny rosebuds in various colors. He didn’t say a word as he held them out to her, and she didn’t say a word as she held the door open for him. But when the door closed, she found herself pinned against her, his hands in her hair, holding her a willing captive for a kiss that fired up her senses. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him.

“I think you missed me too,” Nick said, as he lifted his head at last. She nodded. Nick flinched, then looked down. “What the hell...?”

Sylvie crouched down to stroke Lazarus, then lifted him up. “Of course he’s jealous. He’s been the only man in my life since I got him from the shelter, and now you’re here, with your paws all over me.”

“Mmm,” Nick murmured. “My paws all over you. I like he sound of that.”

Sylvie let Lazarus escape to the floor, where he stood between them, his hackles raised at Nick, like a good little chaperone. She put her coat on, trying to avoid the heat of Nick’s gaze. “You promised me dinner, didn’t you? Are the girls waiting for us?”

“The girls? No. They’re with their grandmother. A sleepover, they love those. I thought we could use some one on one time this evening.”

The evening was wonderful. Filled with romantic music, good food, and a lot of longing glances and lingering touches. Sylvie was feeling quite breathless after dessert, when Nick turned the music down lower and sat down on the sofa, gesturing for her to sit down next to him. His arm felt warm around her, his breath moved her hair, and she felt so much in love that she thought she was about to burst.

She didn’t want to go home tonight. She wanted to stay here, wrapped in Nick’s arms until the morning sun forced them awake. She wanted that – and much more.

She murmured happily as he pulled her close, and he chuckled. “You’re almost purring,” he said.

“I feel like purring,” she said, grinning up at him. He was smiling.

“Me too.” He kissed her temple, then nudged her head up to look into her eyes. His gaze was serious. “Sylvie... there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Sylvie’s heart sped up. His tone was too serious. She sat up straight, pulling away, and with an aching heart remembered his daughter’s words.
I’m going to ask daddy to marry you.
“Oh, God.”

“It’s something serious, isn’t it?” she asked, gulping down air, trying to squelch the burning disappointment. “Something... something to do with...” She waved a hand between them. “You and me... and Emily and Lana...?”

Nick stared at her. There was no question anymore as to what they were talking about, no doubts at all. They knew the score now. “You and me―“

Nick pulled away. Stood up. Leaving her cold and desolate on the sofa. “I get it. Because you don’t like children,” he said flatly. “Because you don’t want them.”

That wasn’t it. It had never been more than a meager excuse she’d clung to in the beginning. She loved the girls. She loved Nick. She loved all of them.

But she would not marry him just to provide his children with a mother. It had to be for love. It had to be forever. Not for convenience, compatibility or anything other than true love – corny as it sounded.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” His voice has hardened. She didn’t answer. Of course that wasn’t it. But she couldn’t tell him the real reason. Couldn’t tell him that she wouldn’t say yes to a proposal ordered by a 5 year old. Couldn’t tell him that she wouldn’t settle for anything less than love.

If she did, he might tell her he loved her. He’d do that for his daughters. He’d do anything for them. And then she’d never be sure if he really did love her.

They walked in silence out to the car, and the drive home was silent. Nick’s profile was hard, aloof, and she felt terrible. He thought she was this shallow, this cold.

He had no idea she loved him, love his kids, wanted nothing more than to stay with them forever.

But not if that wasn’t what he really wanted – for himself. Not for his kids.

Nick’s world felt dark as he drove back home after dropping Sylvie off at her house. Nothing more had been said. There was nothing to say. He’d made a mistake, and not for the first time. Sylvie had felt something from him – he was sure she had. But it hadn’t been strong enough, not important enough to overlook the ‘burden’ of his two daughters.

That had been his second mistake. He’d thought Sylvie had fallen in love with his kids too.

He slept fitfully, wakening late to the sound of his daughters bursting into the house, followed by their grandmother. He pulled on some clothes and went out into the kitchen where the three of them were busy pulling milk out of the fridge and cookies out of the cookie jar.

“Emily wasn’t supposed to tell. I told Sylvie we were going to ask you to marry her,” Lana mumbled. “But she said that wasn’t how it worked and we shouldn’t ask you.”

Nick groaned. “Girls...!”

“So we didn’t! We didn’t ask you to ask her!” Lana continued, anxious to prove her innocent. He let go of them, and his mother, silent for once, poured their milk. Nick just sat there, sighing. The girls finished their treat and ran off to play.

“I take it things aren’t going well with your clown?” his mother said. She knew about Sylvie. He’d told her about her during that time at the hospital, when they thought she might be seriously ill. He’d told her too much. He’d never been particularly close to his mother, but that evening, when they both thought she might die, they’d shared things they never had before.

“I’m in love with her,” he said.

His mother smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“It’s not.... It’s over. Last night – she was terrified that I was about to propose to her. She stopped me off cold. Forbade me to do it.”

His mother put her hand to her chest, her eyes wide, a big smile on her face like she hadn’t noticed the bad news. “Oh, my.
Were
you about to propose?”

Nick shook his head. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I hadn’t really planned anything. Maybe I was about to tell her how I feel. I just knew I didn’t want to lose her.”

“Sylvie’s rather afraid of kids. Or so she says. She never planned on having any of her own. So, when she told me to stop right there, I thought she meant she couldn’t deal with the girls. That I was too much of a package deal.”

“You didn’t realize she stopped you off because she thought the girls had put you up to this – that you might be about to propose just to keep her in the girls’ life.”

Chapter 12

“It’s Nick. We need to talk.”

Sylvie debated telling him to go away, but had a feeling it wouldn’t be a prudent course of action. She’d seen Nick in a determined mood, and guessed he wouldn’t let a door or two get in his way if he wanted to talk to her.

She pressed the buzzer, and rushed into the bathroom to wash her face while he made his way up the few flights. Her eyes were red. She’d been crying. Stupid, unhappy, broken-hearted tears.

And he’d see. She pressed a cold wet washcloth against her eyes, but knew it was useless. He’d notice. Worst case scenario, he’s guess why. He’d guess that she was in love with him.

Three rapid knocks shook the door and she turned off the light so he wouldn’t see her face too clearly, then changed her mind and turned them on again because she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about romantic lighting.

Nick looked different, the cold hard look from before was gone. A small, wry smile played on his lips as they looked at each other in silence.

She cleared her throat. “Come on in.”

“Thank you.” He unwound the scarf from around his neck. Flakes of melting snow drifted on the floor, forming tiny puddles on the tiled floor. She was more fascinated with the flakes of snow still in his hair. They were melting too, leaving drops of water clinging to him. Her fingers itched, and she brought them behind her back and entwined them there. Safer.

But not for long. His hands circled her arms, sliding down them, pulling softly until her fingers lost their grip on each other, and were enfolded in his hands. She felt her knees weaken as he brought her hands up to his mouth, softly kissing them. “Nick...”

“The girls told me, Sylvie. They told me what they’d said to you.” He smiled lopsidedly. “And then I jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry.”