Page 32 of Baby One Last Time
“That’s right.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. How could I have forgotten? Maybe because her wanderlust lifestyle meant traveling on her vacation time was something she rarely did and even more rarely enjoyed. But this trip had been on her calendar for nearly a year. She’d been in Seattle less than six months when the women in her new book club had insisted she join them on their next annual trek.
“If that’s the only time you can visit, you just say the word,” Mom said. “I can cancel. I see those broads all the time.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said. “You’re not using me as your excuse to cancel. You’re going on that trip and you’re going to have a blast. And now the topic is closed and I’m changing the subject.”
“How did I raise such a bossy kid?” She laughed.
Mom had a great, infectious laugh, and I couldn’t help joining her. As she talked about the hospital and her book club and the new health club she and Aunt Anita had joined, my shoulders dropped a few inches, releasing tension I hadn’t noticed I’d been carrying. My headache also eased for the first time since I’d opened my sandpaper-rubbed eyes that morning. I told her what I could about LA, describing the holiday decorations, even the pink flamingo lawn display. I skipped all the parts I couldn’t share with her. Sometimes, I thought she suspected more about my real occupation than she let on, but she happily told her fellow nurses and her book club friends her daughter was a civil servant.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock at my door. Probably Mai, coming to collect me and to make sure I didn’t do any more stupid things that might jeopardize her job.
“Just a minute,” I called. “Hey, mom—”
“I know, you have to go. It was good to hear your voice. And I’m serious about canceling Telluride. Or better yet, if you get some time off, you can join me there.”
That held real appeal. Mom and Aunt Anita had taken me skiing for the first time over the winter holidays just a few months after I’d carelessly caught the apartment building on fire. Their plan had been to cheer me up. My plan had been to spend my weeks off of school scrubbing the neighbors’ floors, caring for their pets, and anything else I could think of as penance.
Mom green-lit becoming an unpaid helper to our elderly neighbors because she knew the importance of caring for others, but vetoed spending my holiday wearing a hair shirt because she believed in self-forgiveness. We’d spent a week in Vermont that year and returned a couple of times in the years that followed, whenever Mom’s schedule—and later, mine—would allow it. Our last winter holiday trip as a family had been four years ago. No wonder I was so desperate to cut through inches and inches of fresh-fallen powder, snowboard all day, and sip spiked hot chocolate all night.
“Maybe I will join you there. Love you, Mom. I’ll call again when I can.”
“I love you, too, sweetie. And if you need a break, you can come here any time and stay as long as you’d like.”
Tears pricked my eyes. She hadn’t bought my song and dance that I was fine. “I’ll see you soon. Promise.”
Mai knocked again as I clicked off the phone. “I’m coming, already. You know we’re going to be five minutes early.”
I pulled open the door and came face-to-face with the source of all that was wrong in my world. He was backlit by the outdoor lights that surrounded the team’s private pool, and wore a navy-blue suit fitted to his body like a second skin. I bit my tongue to keep it in my mouth.
Derek looked me up and down, not bothering to hide the lust my ice princess get-up inspired. “Hey, Cynth.” Whiskey-smooth voice sliding over my body.
My lady bits responded with painful, throbbing need, but my brain overruled my self-destructive body parts.Nope. From now on, I was a teetotaler where he was concerned. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I was just on my way to dinner, and I don’t need an escort to walk me across the patio.”
“I have it on good authority that you have five minutes to spare.” He grinned and took a step toward me. “And this will only take two.” He waited for me to make a move, to invite him in or slam the door in his face.
My brain knew what to do, but my body played stupid. I stepped aside and let him enter. He pushed the door closed behind him. Here we were again, alone behind closed doors. Now my brain followed my body’s lead, and it flooded with memories of two nights ago. Some small, self-preserving piece of my soul came through for me and reminded me of yesterday in the SCIF, of his rejection, of all the pain he’d caused me since we’d met.
“You’re down to a minute and a half.” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.
He nodded, but looked frustratingly unconcerned. “You look gorgeous. How are you feeling? This morning looked a little rough.”
I gritted my teeth. “This morning wasn’t half as bad as yesterday.”
“Fair enough. That’s why I’m here.”
My heart hammered against my ribcage. He’d come to apologize. To admit the error of his ways and throw himself on my mercy. We’d get to that. First, I wanted answers. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“No.” He didn’t even look sorry about it, the bastard. “I came to remind you of all the times I had your back in the field. The dozens of times I asked you to trust me and you did and we both got out alive.”
“Different times. We were partners then.”
He grimaced, then covered it. It had been a slip. Part of his mysterious motives momentarily revealed.
But I was too fucking tired for any more guessing games. “Your time is up.”
He closed the too-narrow gap between us and traced my cheek with his fingertips. Heat flashed through my body as he leaned down and brushed his lips to mine. Gentle, undemanding but promising. “Hold on just a little bit longer, please.” He stepped away from me.
Hold on for what?I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t move or speak.
