Sleeping ’til Sunrise (6 page)

“It could, yes.”

“No,” I said quickly, taking a breath. “Come home.”

“What?”

“Pack your stuff, drive to the airport, and get on a plane.”

“But I’m supposed to see the lawyer tomorrow and—”

“What lawyer? Your father’s?”

“Well, yes, actually,” he said oddly, and I could tell he was actually thinking about what he’d just said.

“No. You need your own lawyer.”

“Yeah, I probably… do.”

“Just come back and we’ll figure everything out.”

“Ess––”

“I don’t mean to cut you off, honey, but I really don’t think you being there is a good idea. You’re too far from home and your support base and… me.”

His breath caught. “You’re giving me heart palpitations, and I’m trying to be so cool.”

“I can’t believe you left town without telling me!” I railed.

“I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t want to scare you off with any more damn drama after I just told you I had fuckin’ cancer!”

“I thought I didn’t matter at all, because you could just leave without a word.”

“What?” he gasped.

It was good, that alarmed sound, because it spoke to the truth better than any words. “It makes sense, right?”

“No. And nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, Essien, I swear I—”

“Prove it,” I barked.

“Prove it?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you, ten?”

“Oh, so then, this
is
bullshit you’re giving me.”

“No.”

“Then like I said, prove it.”

“How?”

“You want me?”

“I do, yes.”

“Are you sure? Because you don’t sound sure.”

“I am, though… very sure.”

“You’ve been thinking about me?” I pressed because I could, and he deserved the interrogation. He’d left me, after all.

“I have.”

“And you’re ready to show me?”

“I am,” he said breathlessly.

“Then get your ass home so I know you’re serious, because leaving like you did was crap. Whatever we are, we’re still friends, and Blake knew what was going on when I didn’t!” I finished angrily because it flared through me and out.

“I just—”

“You need to have some faith in me.”

“But I do. I have all the faith in the world in you.”

“Then come home. And bring your copy of the will and have either Britton or Mia look it over, and when their lawyer contacts you, you’ll refer them to yours.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“I always make sense.”

He chuckled softly. “Yes, you do.”

“And that way you can figure out what it is you really want to do.”

“Okay.”

“I know you know this. I know being pressured into making a decision isn’t you, and isn’t something you should be made to do. But I also know that losing someone you love screws with your heart, and when that gets involved, it messes with your normal decision-making process.”

“It does. Yes.”

“So you need to take a breath, and the best place to do that is here at home.”

“With you.”

“With me.”

There were several moments of silence.

“Now’s the time to figure out your story,” he finally said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Now, before I get home,” he told me. “Before I get even more attached or excited or horny… now’s the time for you to come up with a logical reason, other than the obvious, why you can’t see me.”

“And the purpose of that would be what?”

“Because once I get home, Essien, I’m going to want to see you. A lot. Like all the time. So if you’re scared, and you’re just being noble… now’s the time to run.”

But the thing about me was that I never ran. Not ever. “I appreciate the advice.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now could you get on a plane, because I need to get laid.”

His throaty whimper, full of ache and need, sent a tremor of desire racing through me. “On my way.”

It was good to hear.

IT WAS
amazing how quickly things changed. I’d spent four days thinking one way, and then because of a phone conversation on a Friday night, I was in a relationship. And it wasn’t that I hadn’t thought I was—I had, and then hadn’t, and was now back to the go place I’d been in the evening after I’d taken Roark home.

When I’d left him that night, passed out in his own bed, exhausted, I thought he’d call me the next day. I’d been scared, worried about him and Ivy and the entirety of my life changing, but the following morning, I’d felt like I had the first time I’d ever seen the man.

Hopeful.

And now as I sat on his front steps, waiting on a Saturday afternoon, the butterflies in my stomach were actually welcome. It meant I was ready, because I was unsure, and that was something I never thought would happen again after Deanna died. Yes, I was opening myself up to hurt a second time, but the rewards outweighed the risks. I wasn’t ready to marry Roark Hammond; I just wanted a chance to see what we could be. So did he. He’d said as much on the phone that morning when he called to say he’d be home around four and would I please meet him?

I sat down with Ivy on our back porch and told her that I wanted to be there when Roark got home, as we had some talking to do, and then asked if she would consider spending the night with Hutch and Mike.

Her eyebrows had lifted high. “You planning to sleep over with him?”

I groaned.

“Huh? Dad?”

“Just—”

“Good for you,” she said, slapping me on the bicep. “Hutch said that he’d like to see you take advantage of the fact that you have built-in babysitters.”

“You—”

“Even though, as you know, I’m not a baby.”

“No, I know.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “Please tell me why you were so sad this past week.”

“Was I?”

She nodded. “Hutch said it was because of Roark.”

“He really needs to get out of my business.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re interesting to everyone, not just him.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s because you’re you.”

“And what does that mean?”

She put her hand on my knee, patting me. “You’re so strong, and I don’t mean because of all your muscles, I mean inside where it counts.”

“What do you want?” I teased. “Money? Car?”

“Stop,” she scolded, whacking my stomach gently. “People don’t notice you at first.”

“They don’t?”

“I mean, they look at you because you’re tall and handsome, but then they kinda forget about you until you’re there for them, and you’re there for everyone.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?”

“Yep,” she assured me. “Mom used to say, ‘Your dad is a knight in shining armor. He just doesn’t ride a horse or wear armor. Instead he shows up in a fire truck and wears turnout gear.’”

“Your mother said that?”

She nodded. “Yeah, so I know, right? I know you’re a good man and that everyone around here adores you, so I gotta wonder how come it took my doctor so long to get with the program.”

I debated what to say.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. “He’s clearly not stupid, and every time you take me to the doctor, just talking to you makes him all stuttery and shaky, and last time he walked into his own door.”

I couldn’t stifle the chuckle.

“I mean, come on, you’d have to be blind not to see that he’s into you, so I have to wonder what his deal is.”

Leaning back in my chair, legs stretched out in front of me, I turned and regarded my beautiful daughter.

“Speak,” she directed.

“He has leukemia.”

She absorbed that news. “He doesn’t seem sick to me.”

“He’s not, not yet. But he has it, and I’ll have to live with that if I’m going to pursue a relationship with him.”

“Sure.”

“So now you understand both his hesitation and mine.”

Her scowl was surprising. “No, I don’t understand. I mean, if you like him, and he likes you—so what?”

“Ivy—”

“No,” she snapped. “You’re gonna do what, be scared your whole life that someone is gonna leave you or die on you? What kinda life are you gonna have? Like if Davis told me he had cancer or HIV or something else, would I just walk away from him?”

“Davis?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” she plowed on, answering her own question. “We would use a condom whenever we had sex and I’d watch him like a hawk to make sure if he got sick that I was right there to get him to the doctor.”

“Are you planning to have sex with Davis?”

“Dad!”

Not the point she was trying to make. “I’m sorry.”

“Mom would be so pissed if she knew that you were using her and her loss to keep from getting into a relationship with someone you could really see a future with.”

“I just want to date him and see where it goes.”

“But you were thinking maybe you wouldn’t even try ’cause of the cancer, and that’s awful.”

“We’ve both been through a helluva lot.”

“So have a lot of people.”

“I’m not arguing with you.”

“And so what, now we’re just never gonna love anyone else ever again? That seems nuts to me.”

“Some people don’t want to risk getting hurt again.”

She took hold of my hand. “But that’s not us, right? We’re not like that.”

I squeezed gently. “No, that’s not us.”

Her face lit up. “So, okay, I’ll stay with Hutch and Mike. You can call ’em ’cause I know you will even if I tell you I’ll take care of it—”

“I have to,” I told her. “It’s in the parent bylaws. We have to check up.”

She rolled her eyes. “But so, okay, I’ll be their chaperone for tonight, and you go and have fun with the doctor.”

“Chaperone?”

She giggled. “Yeah.”

“Why chaperone?”

“Because Hutch says the real word he should call me is not appropriate for my age group.”

And he was right, cockblock was not. “God, he’s a mess.”

“Oh Dad, I love Hutch so much. He’s awesome, right?”

Yes, he was. “I guess,” I teased.

She snorted out a laugh. “Call him now. You need to get ready.”

“But I am.”

“I’m sorry?” she asked, studying me. “You’re what?”

“I’m ready for my date.”

Second eyebrow lift of the day. “You’re wearing that?”

Why jeans and work boots and a Henley were bad, I had no idea. “We’re just gonna hang out at his place.”

“Dad!” She was horrified. “This is a big deal!”

So now I was sitting on the steps of Roark’s little Cape Cod–style cottage in a linen shirt, walking shorts, and a pair of sandals I hadn’t even known I owned. I wasn’t surprised that when the taxi let him out in front of the house, he just stood there at the gate, frozen, instead of coming up the walk.

“I realize I look like a tool, but my daughter dressed me,” I said to break the ice.

He nodded like he was in a daze.

“I would have picked you up,” I offered. “I wish you’d have let me.”

“It wasn’t a good idea,” he explained as he came through the gate and gently closed it behind him before continuing up the path.

“And why’s that?” I asked as I stood up, taking the two steps to his porch to wait for him there.

“We wouldn’t have gotten home.”

“Why?”

He reached the bottom of the steps and stared up at me, and I finally saw what everyone was talking about when they said they knew Roark liked me because of the way he looked at me. The man’s eyes were positively worshipful.

I gestured at him. “You’re crazy about me.”

“Well, yes, of course,” he said flatly. “And if I’d been alone with you in the car, I would have made you stop at some sleazy motel on the side of the road, and God knows what would have happened then.”

“Watch a lot of thrillers, do you?”

“Oh shit, don’t you?” He gasped dramatically as he came up the stairs to stand in front of me. “Awww man, I knew there had to be something wrong with you. No one could be that perfect.” Heavy sigh. “You like, what, chick flicks?”

Stepping into his space, I took his face in my hands. “No, sir, I like thrillers and horror movies too, so my perfection status is safe.”

“I figured,” he whispered, dropping his duffel and sliding his hands around my hips. “And you nearly gave me a heart attack, just looking at you from the road.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, dipping my head to kiss his forehead and then his eyes.

“Mmmmm,” he murmured, tipping his head back as I kissed his nose. “I never thought I’d have the guy I’ve been dreaming about for half a year on my porch waiting for me when I got home. And you look so beautiful.”

“I think you’re biased,” I said as I brushed his lips with mine.

He trembled slightly. “I think you don’t look at yourself enough, but that’s okay. I like that just fine.”

When I smiled before I kissed him, I heard his husky whimper and slipped my tongue between his lips, needing to taste him more than I needed to breathe. I had no idea the rules had changed until he shoved his tongue halfway down my throat to examine my tonsils.

Gone was the man who needed to be persuaded and wooed. I was seeing the real Roark now, and this guy was not inhibited or timid, not hesitant or unsure or shy. He finally trusted me enough to show me his true face.

“Come inside,” he rasped between kisses, shoving me into the door, fumbling for the keys, opening it so fast that I almost fell.

He steadied me as we stumbled through the door, kicked it shut behind him, and then walked me backward until I bumped up against a wall. All the while his hands roamed everywhere, tugging and pulling, wanting my clothes off as quickly as possible.

“You don’t wanna talk?” I husked, lifting his head to kiss his throat, the chiseled line of his jaw, each of his dimples, and then reclaiming his lips ravenously.

“No,” he replied quickly when I let him breathe, having worked open all the buttons on my shirt and pushing it off my shoulders before sucking a nipple into his hot mouth.

I jolted in his hands, and I heard a very sinister growl of pleasure.

“Oh, I found a good spot,” he said evilly before he went to his knees and deftly opened the fastener and zipper on my shorts to reach my briefs and skin.