Young Revelations (Young Series) (40 page)

Brow furrowed, he looks up at me. “If Tyler wants a puppy, I can get him one,” he says. “I don’t need some other guy getting my son a puppy for Christmas.”

Sighing, I lean back in my chair, inadvertently pulling my hand from his grasp. A hurt expression crosses his face briefly, but I need him to understand rather than jumping to conclusions. “I’m perfectly aware of how capable you are of getting Tyler a puppy,” I say. “And if this hadn’t come along, I’d say go for it. But Mark’s dog fathered a litter and they’ve managed to find homes for most of the puppies except for the runt. Bonnie brought it up in the context that her nephew had puppies and I had no idea it was Mark. He came to the bookstore and showed me a picture of the puppy. It’s not about Mark giving Tyler a puppy or taking anything away from you. It was an opportunity and I took it. That’s all.”

He nods slowly, accepting my words. “Okay,” he says slowly. “And were you going to tell me about your lunch date with the doctor?”

Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t brought this up sooner… “It wasn’t a date,” I tell him. “It was lunch between two friends.”

“Well, imagine my surprise when I passed the café and saw the two of you through the window.”

I blink a few times as his words sink in. “You were there?” I ask. I assumed the first he’d heard about that lunch outing was yesterday when Jessica casually mentioned it over dinner.

He nods. “I’d been in town running some errands and stopped into the bookstore to see you, but Bonnie said you were out. I decided to just head to my therapy appointment and I walked past the window. Do you have any idea how much self-restraint it took to not rush in there and cause a huge scene?”

“Why didn’t you?” I ask curiously.

“I didn’t think it would do me any favors,” he responds, grinning crookedly. “That and I wasn’t in a particularly good place that day. During my therapy session, Dr. Morris got me talking about what I saw at the café and that led to a discussion about your relationship with Tom.”

“Tom?” I repeat in disbelief—only partly because he’s using Tom’s first name rather than his last or one of the many derogatory nicknames he’s come up with over the years.

Again, he nods. “I realized I haven’t given you enough credit when it comes to other men. I’ve always been jealous and overprotective and slightly possessive of you, and I’ve tried so hard to keep all that to a minimum, because it scared me when I realized I’d never felt that way about anybody before or after you. My insecurities have made me think the worst of you with both Tom and Reilly. I assumed that day in the hospital that there was something more between you two than mere platonic friendship. I assumed that fucking video had driven you into the arms of another man, and even after you tried to explain what was really there between you, there was still that little niggling doubt in the back of my mind. Dr. Morris thinks that’s why I keep screwing things up with you—she thinks I’m going on the defensive by hurting you because my subconscious believes you’re going to hurt me.”

I can only stare at him. I hate what he’s saying to me, though I’m beyond relieved he’s finally being open and honest without my prompting. And it makes sense, even if his feelings on the subject are rather skewed. I couldn’t intentionally hurt him, certainly not by leaving him for another man.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair and opens his mouth to speak. Our server approaches at that moment with our pizza. Matthew gives her a tight smile and a nod of thanks as she goes back to work. “I know it sounds bad,” he continues, putting a slice of pizza onto a plate and handing it to me. “And I know logically you couldn’t do that to me. It came as one hell of a shock to me when I realized you’d rather be alone than be without me.”

“How could that possibly come as news to you?” I ask him incredulously. “I’ve told you that. You saw it when Tom and I were staying with you.”

He nods. “I know,” he says quietly, picking at his pizza a little. “And it’s not that it came as news to me, but the way Dr. Morris approached the issue made me see it from a different angle and I get it now.”

I can only shake my head. No matter how far we seem to come in understanding each other, we always end up right back where we started. Nothing I say or do is enough to convince him he’s it for me. There is no one else that could ever measure up and I’m at a loss of how to proceed. “We spent five years apart,” I say quietly. “And in those five years, we’ve both tried to move on in some capacity and obviously those attempts aren’t going to be easy for either of us to just ignore. But if we don’t put that behind us, we’re not going to last and we both know it.”

“I agree,” he replies. “I think when it comes down to it, I’m absolutely terrified of you, Sam. Of what I feel for you and how intrinsic that is to my very being. Of how there is nobody else in this entire world who could hurt me the way you can. I’m scared of losing you for good, even while I know you would probably be better off without me. But you’re right; we can’t keep bringing up old issues if we want to move forward. And I very much want to move forward with you.”

“I want that too,” I tell him. “I’m not going to lie to you, Matt. It’s not easy knowing you had other women in your life after I left, especially when one of those women has made herself known the way she did. And I know it’s not easy for you knowing about my relationship with Tom. But that is my past just as Natalie and whoever else is your past. I don’t want to think about anything but our future. Yours and mine and Tyler’s and our daughter’s. I don’t want Mark Reilly or anybody else and I need you to trust me when I tell you that, because it is one hundred and fifty percent truth.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes eating our lunch and our server refills our drinks, asking if we need anything else. I politely decline any further service, since Matthew is so lost in his thoughts that he can’t seem form any sort of response. It’s only when I reach for another slice of pizza that he reacts, taking my plate for me and intently putting a slice on it before placing it in front of me again. I don’t get a chance to eat it yet; he’s taken both my hands and pushed aside our food so he can look directly at me as he speaks. “I do trust you,” he whispers. “More than anyone else in the world, I trust you, Samantha. You are the only person who has never wanted anything from me but me. Not money, not job opportunities, nothing. Nine years ago, I never would have believed someone like you existed, let alone that you could possibly want anything to do with me. I kept waiting for whatever the catch might be, that maybe I’d wake up some morning and you’d be a complete figment of my imagination. And then one day you were gone and my entire life shattered. Now you’re back and carrying our second child, and I still can’t quite believe this is happening.”

“Is that why we keep ending up here?” I ask him. “Because you think this is some sort of dream? Matt, this is as real as it gets. And if you don’t realize that soon, I don’t know if—”

Before I’m fully aware of what’s going on he’s out of his chair and I’m out of mine, and he’s kissing me with everything he’s got. I grasp his arms to keep myself upright and can barely keep up with the eagerness of his lips and tongue. When he pulls away, we’re both breathless and he seems to realize suddenly we’re standing in the middle of a restaurant, otherwise I think he would have happily shoved our lunch onto the floor and put me in its place. He glances over his shoulder and we both see our server and one of the pizza cooks watching us unabashedly. Matthew frowns at them and clears his throat; they quickly scatter away and he turns back to me.

“If this is a dream,” he tells me, despite our mutual knowledge that the moment has gone, “I don’t ever want to wake up.”

I smile and try not to roll my eyes at the cliché. It is sort of sweet… “Neither do I,” I reply.

He smiles and we sit down again to finish our lunch.

Twice today we’ve ended up sharing a heated kissing session in public. And while that might be considered far less than normal when we’re getting along, I remind myself that we are technically broken up right now. We shouldn’t be behaving like this. Then again, we’ve never really been able to resist the temptation of each other and today is just another instance of that. It’ll be a miracle if we get through our date tomorrow night still fully dressed…

“You going to answer that?” Matthew asks thickly around his pizza crust.

My brow furrows and he points to my cell phone that’s buzzing beside me. I glance at the screen to find a text message from Bonnie waiting for me. When I check, I’m not really all that surprised to see that she’s decided to close up shop early because of lack of business due to the storm. “No need to take me to the bookstore,” I tell Matthew, returning to lunch. “She’s closing up.”

He nods as though he suspected as much and for a brief moment I wonder if he arranged it. “Back to Claire’s, then?” he asks, wiping at his mouth with a napkin.

I nod. “I suppose so,” I reply quietly, uncertain if I want him to drag this afternoon out longer or if we should be alone with our thoughts for a while. He makes the decision for us and leads me back to the car, once again opening the door and helping me in, though he doesn’t close the door before bending enough to press a quick kiss to my lips.

“Couldn’t resist,” he mutters by way of explanation and closes the door.

Biting my lip against a grin, I know damn well he could have resisted; he just didn’t want to. And really, I wouldn’t have wanted him to.

The drive back to Claire’s is light and happy and joking, and I love times like these with him. I hadn’t realized how empty the last few weeks have been without them. While I know one day can’t possibly fix everything between us, every time we sit down and have a real conversation we’re making more progress than we’ve made in months.

We pull into Claire’s driveway and he puts the car in park, then turns towards me. “Did you want to come in?” I ask, really not wanting him to leave. “I’m sure Tyler would love the time with you.”

He smiles slightly. “I’d love to, but I have some work that needs to be wrapped up by this evening.” I try to hide my disappointment as he reaches over to tuck some hair behind my ear. “Thank you for letting me take you to your appointment today,” he says softly, his fingers lingering on my cheek. “And for having lunch with me and everything in between.”

I nod in response, then reach for my purse. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his expression fall as he probably believes I’m just going to bolt from the car without another word. Removing the manila envelope from my bag, I reach in and take out one of the ultrasound scans to hand him. “Take this with you,” I order quietly.

The smile on his face as he takes the photo makes me melt a little more. “Thank you,” he says. “I know the perfect place for this.” We smile at each other again and he finally leans in for a kiss that I immediately deepen. He gasps in surprise at my eagerness, but quickly responds by tangling his fingers in my hair while I do the same with his, holding him in place. I don’t stop until I realize I’m about a second away from crawling into his lap to continue this in a more comfortable position, and then I remember we’re in Claire’s driveway, which is probably not the best venue for this. We slowly pull away from one another, our breathing equally erratic.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I whisper, resting my forehead against his.

He nods slightly, one of his hands still at my neck. “Absolutely,” he breathes, pressing one last kiss to my lips before pulling away from me completely.

I exit the car and try to get myself together enough that I can walk up to the front porch without falling. After telling him to drive safely, I head up to the house, knowing he’s watching my every move, and I’m suddenly more excited than ever about tomorrow night’s date.

Pulling into my sister’s driveway, I can’t recall ever being so nervous for a date in my life. I spent most of the last twenty-four hours pacing around my house, running my hands through my hair—which only caused it to stick up in every possibly direction—and making last minute arrangements. I need this to be perfect as I have this feeling tonight will make or break my relationship with Samantha and if even one tiny detail is out of place, that might well be the end of us.

Logically, I know she won’t be critiquing the date and grading it. But after yesterday, in my mind at least, anything less than perfection is not good enough for her. Possibly the highlight of the day had been giving our daughter a name. When I thought of Olivia, I knew there would be a chance Samantha would shoot it down immediately, but of all the other names I’ve considered, that’s the one that’s stuck with me. Olivia Young. Or, if things go sour between Sam and me, Olivia Everett. I know which one I prefer… And when I wasn’t pacing my house like a caged animal last night, I was recalling how incredibly wonderful it felt to kiss her again. I realized the only reason she was holding back was because we were in public for most of the day; if we’d been anywhere else, I’m not sure which of us would have been more eager to get the other undressed.

I’m trying my best not to get my hopes up that tonight will end with us in my bed, and I’ve had to take a few cold showers today to get my mind back on the right track. I don’t want her to think tonight is all about seducing her, though I think as the night goes on it will be more difficult to keep those thoughts at bay. It’s a good thing the weather has turned as cold as it has; otherwise, I would need another cold shower before we leave for our date.

I switch off the ignition to my car, realizing Samantha’s isn’t in the driveway, and head up to the house. I’m at least a couple hours early, since I couldn’t sit around at home anymore without pulling out my hair. She’s probably finishing up work at the bookstore. I figured I could fit in some time with my son before she gets back. Almost the moment I ring the doorbell beside the front door, my phone rings. I scowl as I reach for it, already knowing who’s calling and why.

“Marcus,” I say by way of greeting. “Hope you had a good Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, it was stupendous,” he responds sarcastically. “Thought you’d want to know Natalie Walsh is being extradited to New York State next week to face kidnapping charges. She’s also being linked with a few other crimes that I don’t yet have details about, though I suspect they involve Frank Marone in some capacity.”

I sigh as the front door opens and Claire appears. Holding up one finger to tell her I’ll be inside in a minute, I walk to the end of the porch for a bit more privacy. “Not exactly what I wanted to hear,” I tell Marcus. “What are the chances she’ll be bailed out before trial?”

“Slim to not in a million fucking years,” he responds matter-of-factly. “And even if the judge decides to be lenient, she’s not leaving the county.”

That makes me feel a little better. The last thing we need right now is for Natalie to make another appearance in our lives. I’m only now starting to convince Samantha she and Tyler are safe with me. And I should probably tell Samantha about this rather than letting her find out some other way. We can’t have any other secrets between us, even when I think it would be better for her to not know. “Keep me updated,” I tell Marcus. “I’ll probably be incommunicado tonight—Sam and I are going out—but I’ll be around tomorrow.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Marcus says sincerely. “I’ll get in touch on Monday unless something else comes up you need to know about.”

I almost want to tell him to wait until Monday regardless of whether I need to know about something. “Yeah, thanks,” I mutter. “Talk to you then.”

Without waiting for a response I end the call and slide my phone back into my pocket, trying not to feel as though this has put a damper on the evening. It really shouldn’t; it’s not as though she’s running around free. She’s just being transferred from one jailing facility to another. If I have my way, she won’t be leaving police custody anytime soon.

I turn around and find Claire leaning against the doorjamb of her front door. “Eavesdropping isn’t nice, you know,” I grumble.

“Wasn’t intentional,” she responds quietly. “Do I even want to know what that was about?”

“No, you really don’t,” I tell her, gesturing that she should head inside. “At least not until I’ve had a chance to tell Samantha first.”

“Finally learning,” she observes with a grin. “I’m so proud of you…”

Rolling my eyes, I follow her into the house. “Where’s Sam?”

“She wanted to buy a new outfit for tonight. Apparently everything she owns makes her look like a whale with her almost non-existent baby bump,” she says with an exasperation that tells me the two of them might have argued about this point several times today alone. “I don’t know why the hell she’s so determined to impress you; you’ve already knocked her up twice now. It’s not like we don’t know you’re attracted to her.”

I grin as we go into the kitchen where Claire hands me a can of soda. “She’s nervous?” I ask.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” my sister confirms. “I don’t know what happened with you two yesterday, but she’s acting like a teenager going out on her first date.”

So I’m not the only one feeling like this. Somehow that makes me feel better and much more relaxed. I can calm her nerves with little to no effort and if I’m doing that, I won’t have time to be nervous myself. All I have to do is keep focused on my plans for the date and it doesn’t matter if the little details don’t go exactly the way I want them to go. I’ll be with the girl I love and that’s what’s important.

Well, that and the little boy who spotted me from the backyard where he’s building a snowman with his cousins and Uncle Danny. He’s now rushing across the deck to the door and the moment he enters I waste no time scooping him up in my arms. It doesn’t seem to matter to him that I only saw him yesterday morning; he is beyond thrilled to see me now and my heart swells at that realization. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of the way he wraps his arms around my neck and plays with the collar of my shirt and talks a mile a minute about what he’s been up to lately. My sister is smiling fondly at us and offers to make hot chocolate before the rest of the hoard returns inside. Once we’ve gotten that, Tyler and I head into the living room where he is demanding that I play a videogame with him, which of course I’m more than happy to do. It’s not long before we’re joined by Danny and the kids and I give up my game controller to my nephew in favor of sitting back on the couch with Claire and Danny. A few minutes later, the front door opens and everyone looks over to find Samantha standing in the archway separating the living room from the front hall. And her eyes, wide with surprise, are trained on me.

“Hi,” I say, grinning widely at her.

“Hi,” she replies, a slow smile growing on her face. “I thought we weren’t going out until later?”

I shrug. “We’re not,” I answer. “But I got antsy at home and wanted to come play with my son.” I can’t quite place the expression on her face, but she’s definitely not upset to see me sitting here. Claire scoots over a bit to give her room to sit. She looks questioningly at me. “We still have a few hours before we need to leave. Come sit.”

Smiling, she places a couple bags from her shopping trip beside the staircase and comes to sit right beside me, her thighs touching mine. Grinning at her, I put an arm around her shoulders to pull her a little closer to me. To my everlasting relief, rather than pulling away or resisting, she simply rest her head on my shoulder. I could fall asleep like this. Having her beside me, relaxed and content… No words can properly explain how this feels. And to think I’d been so close to losing this, several times. Now that I’m seeing and thinking clearly again, I can, for the most part, see where I screwed up and I’m slowly starting to put things back the way they should be.

Sometime later, Samantha reluctantly disengages herself from my side and mutters something about getting ready to go. I’d happily be willing to tell her she looks perfect right now with her sweatshirt and jeans, but experience reminds me this is the ritual of females—to get dressed up, do their hair and makeup, all with the goal to make jaws drop. And while I’ve told her hundreds of times over the years she doesn’t need to do all that to get my attention and make my jaw drop, the results really are worth seeing. Claire joins her upstairs after about half an hour or so, leaving Danny and me to keep an eye on the brood of children. The twins are still playing their videogame while Tyler and Abby seem to be having a tea party or something. It’s adorable and I cannot wait to see what sort of big brother my son will be.

For me, when Clair was born, I was just glad to not be the baby of the family anymore. My older sisters, Elizabeth and Holly, had somehow been convinced I was born a girl and used me to practice their makeover talents. I’m sure my mom has a photo album full of me wearing makeup and dresses and whatever the hell else those two coerced me into wearing. And they were getting to the age that they didn’t really want their bratty little brother tagging along with them anymore, so the day Claire came home I decided I had a new friend to play with. Unlike my older sisters, I was more than happy to help my mom with the new baby—feeding her, getting her dressed, even changing her diapers. And when she got older, I helped her learn to walk and talk, and she turned out to be a great ally against our elder siblings. It took years for them to realize who was replacing their shampoo with honey, or filled their favorite shoes with super glue, or how I seemed to know everything they’d written in their diaries when they’d gone to such ridiculously great lengths to lock me out of their bedrooms. Looking at her now, a mother of three of her own children, I don’t think I could be more proud of her. She did what was right for her and her life, much like I did, and I couldn’t ask for a better baby sister.

That’s what I want for Tyler and the new baby. Their age gap won’t be much bigger than my and Claire’s, and nothing would make me happier than to see them bond the way she and I have. Samantha doesn’t really have close relationships with her siblings. Jimmy has become more of a father figure since her father died, and her younger sister Lily is off doing her own thing—last I heard, she was in California hoping to become an actress or something. So I know she’s slightly jealous of the relationship Claire and I have, and the fact that she and Claire are such great friends is pretty damn cool too.

When Claire finally makes her reappearance, she gives me a little smirk that tells me she knows something I don’t, and ushers the kids into the kitchen for dinner.

“I hate it when she does that,” I mutter, shaking my head.

Danny chuckles, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You and me both,” he tells me. “So are we expecting Samantha home tonight?”

Raising my eyebrows in surprise, I look over at my brother-in-law. He’s smirking as well. I glance around the corner into the kitchen where Claire is busy dishing out dinner. “Not if I have my way,” I reply quietly, grinning. “I mean, I’m trying not to get my hopes up too much, because for all I know, this date will completely backfire on me…”

“Well, I’ll say this much: Sam and Tyler have been here for—what, a couple weeks now? In that time, I don’t think I’ve seen a real, genuine smile on her face until Thanksgiving Day. And then, it was because you were here. You’re both looking happier than you have in far too long. If that’s a sign of things to come for tonight, I will be shocked as hell to see her at the breakfast table tomorrow.”

I snort a laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say to him.

No announcement is made, but I know the exact moment when Samantha enters the room, because my brother-in-laws eyes bug out of his face and his mouth drops open slightly. “Holy shit,” he whispers.

Slightly surprised that he’s actually swearing, then blaming my sister’s influence, I slowly turn around to find what he’s staring at and feel my heart actually skip a few beats at what I see. Samantha is rather shyly standing in the doorway with her long brown hair hanging down around her face. Her makeup is simple as always and she could be wearing none at all for how much it shows—but of course I’m going to notice every little change to her. Though before I thought it didn’t matter what she wears tonight as long as she’s with me, I think I’m going to enjoy her clothing choices. She’s wearing a fitted charcoal grey
cable knit sweater dress that hugs her curves in a way that forces me to bite back a loud groan and accentuates her bump, with black tights and tall back riding boots. I smirk at the boots; as I’ve yet to tell her about the evening’s plans, I can only assume she and I are back on the same wavelength with our thoughts again.

I slowly stand up, realizing I’ve probably been staring at her for around five minutes. She’s eyeing me nervously as though she’s wondering what I think about her choice of outfits. And considering how she keeps pulling on the sweater dress, she’s worried that her baby bump is showing so much it makes her look bad. To the contrary, she’s never looked more beautiful to me than she does right now. Biased? Absolutely. Do I really give a shit? Hell no.

“You look amazing,” I tell her, smiling as I approach her, making a point to look her up and down so she knows I’m checking her out. “And I love the boots.”

Smiling shyly and biting her lip, she seems very pleased at my compliment and I mentally pat myself on the back. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “I wasn’t sure what we were doing tonight, so hopefully this works.”