Love Always, Damian (12 page)

Great.

“No, I’m okay. He only hurt Daddy,” she tells Ellie.

“I’m finished,” Dad says, and I spring up off the sofa. Kneel down beside Lia. “Can I speak with Ellie, please?” I ask her.

She frowns. “But I’m not done yet.”

“Real quick. Then I’ll give it back, I promise,” I say.

She studies me for a second, and I can’t tell if she’s examining her grandfather’s handiwork or if she’s trying to decide if I’m lying. Either way, she hands over the phone. “Fine.”

“Ellie? Hi,” I say like today is another average day. It’s important for her to know I have everything under control, which I do.

“Damian! What the hell is going on there?” She’s screaming. Loud, anxiety-ridden screaming.

“Calm down. It’s not a big deal, Elle. A misunderstanding, but everything is perfectly fine. How was your flight?” I redirect her.

“No way. You do not get off the hook that easy.”

I stand up and duck into my bedroom for some privacy, even though I can hear Lia outside my door. I explain the gist of the situation, enough to pacify Ellie and make it believable. No reason to give her more than that.

“Do I need to come back?” she asks point blank.

I lower my voice. “No, Elle, of course not. I have everything under control. You stay there and kick some shark ass.”

She breathes into the receiver, extending the silence between us.

“Ellie, you gotta trust me,” I beg. Yeah, I’ve resorted to that because after today, I don’t have much dignity left. “I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt Lia.”

Finally, she sighs. “So, are you okay?”

I smile at the concern in her voice. “Yes, Elle. I’m okay. One stitch, that’s all that was required,” I lie. I’m pretty sure there are five or six.

Again, I have to wait for her to answer. “Good,” she says, relief tinting her tone. “I’m glad.”

“Talk tomorrow?” I ask, and I’m already looking forward to it.

“Kiss Lia for me, please?”

I glance at Lia’s empty bed. “I will.”

“Bye, Damian.”

“Good night, Elle,” I say, then sink down on the edge of my bed, remembering how we never used to say that before we fell asleep in my bed.

~*~

We have to call Ellie back because I forgot to let Lia talk with her again. She’s on the phone for fifteen minutes before she begins to run out of things to say. After they hang up, I usher Lia to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“Mommy gives me baths every night,” Lia says when I tell her to brush her teeth.

Right. A bath.

“Uh…okay. I’ll fill up the tub.” I stick the plug in the drain and run the faucet.

“I like bubbles,” Lia tells me.

I did buy some of that no tears baby wash for her. I dump half of it in the water and make a mental note to pick up some bubble bath.

Lia comes up behind me and taps me on the shoulder. “Can I play with my ponies in the tub?”             

She holds up Twilight Sparkle and two others I haven’t caught the names of. Her eyebrows perch high on her forehead as she begs me with her cuteness.

“I don’t see why not,” I reply.

“Yes!” she squeals. “Mommy never lets me.”

Ah, shit.

She starts to undress and is almost naked by the time I stand up and notice.

“Whoa. Um, let me get out of here first.” I close my eyes and slide around her.

“Mommy stays in here with me. And if you leave, who’s going to wash my hair?”

Her hair?

“You can’t do that yourself?” I ask, keeping my focus on the door.

“No.”

I wipe a palm down my face. “Okay, uh, go put a swimming suit on.”

“Seriously?” she drawls out, sounding more like a sixteen-year-old than a three-year-old.

I turn around. She has her hands on her hips, one foot forward, one hip popped to the side. Her expression is priceless, and I immediately think about her mother in the exact same pose. This little girl may look like me, but she’s got Ellie written all over her.

“Yes, seriously. Go,” I instruct, and she sulks off to dress.

When she returns, she climbs in the tub and immediately lies down and makes a water angel. She’s laughing, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She rolls onto her stomach, sticks her face in the water, and wiggles.

“I’m a mermaid,” she says after blowing water out of her mouth fountain-style.

I let her play and splash, and after the bathroom floor has more water than the bathtub, I wash her hair.

“Okay, you’re done. Hop out,” I say.

“I don’t want to be done, yet. I’m not all pruny.”

I scratch my head. Check the clock and relent. “Ten more minutes.”

“Yay!”

Ten minutes later, while she’s putting on her jammies, I soak up the water on the floor. Ellie does this every night?

Lia jumps in her bed and brings her blankets up to her chin. Then she peers at me with puppy-dog eyes.

“Will you read me a story again?” she asks, her mouth doing that pouty thing she’s so good at.

I slide out a plastic tote from under her bed. “Which one?”

“Hmmm.” She examines each and every one before she finally settles on the one we read last night. My mom used to call that “stalling” when I was a kid, and it probably is, but I don’t care tonight.

“My Little Pony, huh?” Shocker. I sit down on the floor beside her bed. “Okay, here we go.”

She hangs onto every word, clutching her stuffed version of Twilight Sparkle in her arms. “Look, Twilight, there’s you!” she exclaims each time the pony shows up in the book—which is nearly every page.

“The end,” I say and close the book. “Bedtime.”

I half expect a retort, but when I get up to tuck her in, her eyes are already drooping. They flutter briefly, and Lia smiles. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome.” I lean over her and press my lips against her forehead. “The kiss is from your mom.”

Lia yawns, gathers her favorite blanket in her tiny hand, and sticks her thumb in her mouth.

I chuckle to myself, the sassy image of her in the bathroom flashing through my mind again. Lia’s leaving her mark on me. Single-handed and easily, she drew me in. Filled a hole. And I don’t want to imagine my life without her now.

“Good night, my babygirl.”

Chapter 13

Ellie

I’m checked into my room at the Cairns facility. It’s more like a hotel room than an apartment. One room with a bed, a loveseat, desk, dresser, and television. Along the west wall is a tiny stove and dorm-sized refrigerator. And of course there’s a bathroom, but that’s it.

My home for the next eight weeks.

I don’t unpack. Instead, I sit in the middle of the bed, legs crossed. I’m still thinking about the phone call with Damian. My first response was panic. Fear because this is why I hadn’t wanted to leave Lia with him in the first place. What was I thinking? Damian has no idea how to be a parent and all the position entails. My little Lia-Kat requires two eyes on her at all times.

Drunk guy with a steroid problem? Damian’s explanation
is
believable.

The kicker is I wanted to be there. Not for Lia. For Damian.

I fall back onto the pillows. I have to stop thinking about him. Stop wanting to comfort him. Those years are gone, and it’s time to concentrate on something else.

Seeing him back in Iowa, though, brought all the feelings I’d tucked away to the surface again. I need to get a grip. Keep our daily phone calls about Lia and Lia alone.

And short. Super, super short.

Because while I’m in Cairns, my head stays in my work. It’s what I came here to do, and I’ve got to focus.

Deep breath in.

Let it out.

Orientation is in the morning, and Blake and I have a dinner date tonight. Who knows? If I can manage to remove Damian from my heart, maybe something can happen with Blake.

Lia adores him. He’s been so good to us. The guy definitely deserves a chance. So, tonight, I’m one hundred percent committed to giving it a shot.

Being here in Australia without Lia and with Damian halfway around the world may be exactly what I need to get my love life back on track.

~*~

“Right this way,” the waiter says, directing Blake and me onto the portico.

It’s breezy, but the view of the ocean is spectacular. Water laps over the sand below us, and the golden rays of the setting sun sparkle on the waves like glitter.

Blake pulls a chair out for me and glides a hand over my bare shoulders as he scoots me in. He’s quite debonair in his white button-up and black suit.

The waiter pours us each a glass of champagne before he leaves.

Blake holds his glass up. “A toast.”

“All right,” I say, mirroring him.

His eyes twinkle as the flicker of the candle on our table reflects off them. “To eight weeks of pure awesomeness in the land down under with the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. Elizabeth Van Zee, to you.”

I feel the blush coming on before it hits my face. “Cheers.”

Our glasses clink in the middle. With gazes locked, we take our sips. I set my champagne down. The part mischievous, part delighted grin Blake has stirs a flutter in my stomach. It’s been there for a while, patiently waiting, and I’m finally ready to unleash it and see what happens.

“This place is beautiful,” I say, flicking a glance out to sea again.

“I made these reservations months ago. If you had decided not to come, this would have been a very lonely dinner. So thank you.”

I slide my attention back to him. “Months ago? You sound like you were pretty sure of yourself.”

He gives a cocky shrug that makes him seem more adorable than arrogant. “And here you are.”

“You made it easy.”

Blake sips at his champagne. “Elizabeth, I meant what I said. You really are the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. You’re strong, resilient, and the way you take care of Lia is remarkable. Look at all you’ve accomplished since you left the Midwest. You made a whole new life for yourself, and I respect that.

“But I gotta be honest, Elizabeth, I want in. I want to be a part of that life you’re building with Lia, and not as just a friend. I understand why you’ve kept me at arms’ length, and I’ve been okay with that, but I want more. We’re here for two months without Lia, so if it doesn’t work out, she won’t get hurt.”

Blake reaches across the table and takes both of my hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the backs.

“Can you give us a shot, Elizabeth?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.

Suddenly, I’m cold. Goosebumps racing over my arms and shoulders. I’d been expecting this. Heck, I even had my answer ready. Even so, I’m caught off guard because I didn’t anticipate this conversation to happen so soon into the trip.

I gaze out over the water to gather my thoughts. I could put this off for a few days, and Blake would be his patient, understanding self about it. So different from Damian.

More like Liam.

I suck in a lungful of ocean air, hold it, then let it out slowly. My mind runs circles around my earlier decision and the doubts that accompany it. Still, the fact that Lia isn’t here makes it easier.

Blake and I will either return to Florida as friends like before, because that’s how Blake is, or we’d return as a couple, in it for the long haul.

Those are my choices, and even though they both look good on the outside, life has taught me that one will always be a mistake. Like running to Damian after Liam died.

My eyes wander back to Blake’s. Dark and considerate, they wait for my answer.

If I’m going to take the plunge, now’s the time.

I smile and squeeze his hands. “Yes, Blake. I can do that.”

~*~

Blake walks me to my apartment door. My hand hasn’t left his since the restaurant, and it’s a strange feeling. This never happened between Damian and me because we were never a couple. Before Blake, the only other man I did this with was Liam.

Until now, I didn’t realize how much I missed the intimacy of it. I actually don’t want him to let go.

“Where did they put you?” I ask.

“One building over, across the courtyard.” He gestures with a tilt of his head.

“Um…” I shift my weight, wondering if it’s a good idea to ask him in. Even though I’m in this relationship one hundred percent, I don’t want to rush into it head first…which is kind of stupid if I think about it. I’ve known Blake for almost four years.

Blake hooks an arm around my waist, drawing me in. His fingers slide down a strand of hair I left out of my updo. Leaning in, his palms glide over my arms, leaving a trail of warmth on my skin.

“Pick you up in the morning?” His breath wafts over my mouth, steamy and cool at the same time. “For orientation,” he adds unnecessarily.

“Yeah, sure.”

His lips brush over mine in a light kiss. “Good,” he says, and lowers his head to suck at my neck.

Desire courses through my veins and dives deep into the pit of my abdomen, and suddenly I’m back in Tallahassee on my sofa with him. The same urges cloud my mind.

Inviting him in is on the tip of my tongue when he pulls away, no longer touching me at all. My body goes into shock at his absence. I’m cold and left wanting more.

Blake flashes me that seductive half grin, his long dark eyelashes partly concealing mocha irises. Maybe it’s how easily he turned me on and let go that has me realizing how attractive he is in a not-just-friends sort of way. With black hair accenting creamy, soft skin, Blake is totally drool-worthy, and I wonder why it’s taken me this long to notice.

My nipples are rock hard and stabbing into my unlined bra. As if on cue, Blake’s eyes dip low for a second, and by the way his half grin widens to a full-on smile, I have no doubt that he can see them.

“See you in the morning, Elizabeth,” Blake says. He gives me another quick onceover, and saunters down the hallway.

“In the morning,” I repeat to myself, thinking how a cold shower is long overdue.

~*~

Due to my newfound relationship with Blake, I give myself a pep talk before I make my daily phone call to Lia. I’ll have to talk with Damian too, and I could use the extra courage to not fall prey to his voice.

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve left my blonde hair straight and down today but slipped a scrunchie over my wrist for later. My makeup is done like always, yet it doesn’t conceal the nerves flushing my face.

“You can do this, Ellie,” I encourage myself. “No small talk. Simply ask for Lia and be done.”

I take a deep breath before I hit the call button. It’s evening there—yesterday, which is weird to wrap my mind around.

It only rings once before Damian picks up.

“Hey, Elle,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice even though his tone is low.

Crap. Stick to the plan.

I straighten my back, flip my hair off my shoulder. “Hi, Damian. Is Lia right there?” I’m matter-of-fact, no emotion. The complete opposite of all the conversations before.

A second too long of silence engulfs us, and I’m fighting to cave in. He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Hang on.”

“Mommy!” Lia cries into the phone, and I’ve successfully evaded Damian. I
can
do this.

“Hey, sweetie! How was your day?”

“Daddy took me to the hospital with him, and I have a new friend there. Her name is Olivia, and she likes Fluttershy,” my little Lia-Kat informs me, talking about the yellow pony with pink hair who loves animals.

“Oh, very nice,” I say. “I like Fluttershy too.”

“But Mommy,” Lia continues, ignoring me. “Olivia is sick. Daddy says she’ll lose all of her hair soon, but…but…she’s going to go home tomorrow, and I’ll only see her two days a week.” She sighs heavy into the receiver, and I can imagine the cute expression on her face. She’s so melodramatic sometimes. I fear her teenage years.

“Well, sweetie, two days a week is better than no days a week.”

“Moooooom!” She drawls it out as if I don’t understand. “She’s sick! She should stay in the hospital.”

“Would you rather be in a cold, lonely hospital when you’re sick or at home in your nice warm bed?” I wait for an answer. On the other end, I hear her muffled voice as she discusses this conundrum with Damian.

“At home, I guess,” she finally decides.

“I’ll bet she’d be happier being sick at home too.”

“Fine,” she relents, a hint of huffiness in her tone.

“Everything else okay?”

“Mmm-hmm. We’re all good here. I miss you, though.”

“Sweetie, I miss you too.”

“Is Blake with you? Can I say hi?”

“No, he’s not, but I’ll tell him hi for you when he gets here.”

“All right. I love you, Mommy. Here’s Daddy back.”

“No, wait!” I call out.

She doesn’t hear me, and the next thing I know, Damian’s voice filters into my ear again. “She’s full of energy. So, what about you? Ready for your first day today?”

Him asking about me throws me off my game. “Uh, yeah, I think so. It’s just orientation, though. The fun stuff begins tomorrow.”

As I say it, I peer at myself in the mirror. My eyes seem brighter and more content. All signs of anxiety are gone.

“You’re going to do great, Elle,” he encourages me, and I avert my gaze to the wall because I can’t be the person in that mirror. The one who melts into goo at the sound of his voice and whose heart pitter-patters against her chest like a lovesick junior high kid.

No, I can’t go there. Not again. Not anymore.

I switch the phone to my other ear to give myself a moment to regain my composure. “Thank you. I should go, though. Tell Lia I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Goodbye.”

I say the last part too fast and hang up immediately afterward. That last word hurts enough as it is, and the truth is, I hate when he says it back to me.