Page 79 of Noble Neighbor
This time his kiss was deeper, stronger.
She took all he offered; gave all he asked for.
But you’renotgiving him all, Sunny.
Oliver caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down. For a brief moment, doubt knocked. She was taking their relationship to the next level while keeping stuff, big stuff,dark stuff, from a good man.
Then his lips touched hers, and his naked torso pressed against her, and all thought fled.
22
A plunge into the past
“I’ve met someone, Chris-Chris,” Oliver whispered, staring at the photo on top of his chest of drawers. “Her name is Sunny. Sunny Jones. I hope to make her Sunny Armstrong. She’s not a replacement,sweetheart, believe me. If you’d lived, we’d still be together,maybe another kid richer.”
He picked up the frame in both hands, smoothing his thumbs up and down as he held it. “But here’s the thing, babe. To make a place for her in my life, I must put these reminders of you away. Especially here, in my bedroom. I know you’ll understand.”
Five years ago, he’d thought his life had ended. He’d never imagined finding another woman to love, yet here he was, closing that chapter of his past. He turned and placed the photo on top of the quilt he’d folded earlier, right above the velvet pouch containing two wedding bands and Christie’s engagement ring.
And his medallion. He’d give it to Clement on his twelfth birthday.
Oliver scanned the room looking for other mementos. And remembered.He stalked across to the bedside table and opened the drawer, extracting the small jeweler’s box containing the unicorn pendant he’d given Christie when they married.
Swallowing away the lump in his throat and jamming down the ache of events that had taken place five years ago, the unicorn — the fated object that had brought Christie’s killer to justice — joined the items already packed.
He’d never brought Sunny up here. Not that he’d call his bedroom a shrine — he wasn’t that morbid — but it held the bed he and Christie had shared.
And he still slept under the linen she’d chosen and used the furniture they’d bought at the start of their life together.
Neither had he really talked about Christie’s death to Sunny, nor the circumstances surrounding it. He’d kept that part of his life from her, too. But things were different now. They were heading toward permanence, and he needed to share—
Hands gripping the edges of the container, Oliver hunched forward.
With utter clarity he realized he’d subconsciously kept certain details of his past from Sunny. Just as she hadn’t shared hers, neither had he.
Oliver exhaled, sat his ass beside the storage container, and lifted his eyes heavenward. “Christie? Can I ask you to put a good word in with the Man upstairs? Sunny’s already skittish about commitment, and your death comes with … complications. I don’t know how she’ll react.”
Sunny’s a strong woman, he reminded himself.
Blinking rapidly, he added,but one with secrets.
Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about his future with Sunny.
He could accept not knowing her past.
But could she accept the pitfalls ofhis?
At any moment someone could discover Clement’s role. Or connect A. C. Strong to Oliver Armstrong.
Both would bring the newshounds in droves.
And possible danger to Sunny’s doorstep.
Oliver fitted the lid on the box and stood, lifting the last vestiges of his life with Christie into his arms, and walked across to the hallway closet where he’d cleared a space to store it.
His somber mood accompanied him all the way to his office.
More important than writing, he needed a plan to scale this mountain of an obstacle he’d inadvertently created.
