Dear Rose 2: Winter's Dare (11 page)

“What do you mean?” This was his worst nightmare come true. This wasn’t going the way he’d wished. It sounded like she was trying to be done with him. Not now. Now when he was so close to making a go with her.

“Us. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t. You’re…not good for me, and I’m done. I’m done with it always being about you, and I need someone to make it about me for once.” She wagged a finger at him. “I need someone to always be there. Not just when it’s convenient for them. I need someone to commit to me. To give me forever. Not just right now because there’s nothing better for them.” She spat the words out like sour candy.

Was that what she thought? That he was with her because there was nobody better? That she was just convenient? No wonder she’d been unhappy. He tried to find the words to tell her exactly how wrong she was. Only his brain wasn’t working. He needed to act upon the changes and show her the way. But he seemed to be one step behind Ally.

A single tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away as furiously as though batting away a fly. Her tears could break him. They always had. “Go away, Tucker.” And with that she got in her car.

Which would mean she would get away from him. Possibly forever. He couldn’t let her flee. If he did, he’d never get the chance to show her how wrong she was about their relationship. He grabbed for her, holding open the car door, refusing to let it shut. “Wait a minute.”

“No.” She looked as if she was about to start crying in force. Her face was red. Flushed. Sad. Because of him. If she started bawling, he was going to lose it and he had to be in control of himself to make this work.

He felt as if someone had just kicked him in the balls. This was the worst scenario. One he hadn’t even thought over in his head to plan for. “We need to talk.” Did they ever. There was so much he needed to say to her.

“I said everything that needed to be said. Go home.
Your
home. Go away. Leave me for now.” She pulled on the door, which he didn’t let go. “I mean it. Go away.” She also sounded as if she might be nearing hysteria.

He eyed the parking lot. They were alone, but he needed to keep an eye out for other people. The last thing that would help him was someone calling the police because they were arguing. “You talked.” He continued to hold the door she was pulling on. “I listened. Now it’s your turn.” Maybe they should be resuming this elsewhere. He considered his possibilities.

She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t work that way tonight. I’m tired. I’m going home. We aren’t talking.” She glared at his hand, and if her eyes could shoot daggers, his hand would be full of holes. “Please let go.”

He did but dashed to the passenger side and before she could lock it, he jumped in the seat. Good, he’d made it. If she’d locked the door, he didn’t know what he would have done. “Fine, you’re tired. Head home. But we still need to talk. We can do that later when you’re ready.”

“Get out.”

“No.” He wasn’t about to give up on this. Not now, not ever. He just had to make her listen. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make her as she was so angry at him, but he’d find a way.

“I don’t need your pity. I don’t need to talk. We aren’t going to talk. And I’m not going to listen to anything you have to say.” She folded her arms over her chest. He was reminded of a little girl saying “nana nana nana.”

He didn’t smile, though he wanted to. That wouldn’t put her in a good mood. “There’s no pity in what I’m going to say.” There wasn’t. There was only love. “I need to talk to you. And you need to listen. Like I just did to you. I heard some things that I didn’t know. You will too.” He buckled his seat belt. “Now let’s go home.”

She rubbed her head again before jabbing the key in the ignition so harshly that he wondered if she might break it off. “Fine. But I’m taking a bath and going to bed. So when we get to my house, you’re done. And I’m not taking you home later.” She pulled from the space, coming close to hitting his car. “You’ll have to call a cab or walk. And you’re not using my phone.”

She only lived a few moments from work. That wasn’t enough time to talk this out, and she was so angry, she wasn’t going to listen. “I’m not going to talk until we have enough time to discuss this. And I’m not going away until we do.” He folded his arms over his chest. If only he was wearing more comfortable clothes to do this. He felt pinched and itchy, and it wasn’t just the conversation doing it. “And you need to calm down before you drive.”

“You’re so infuriating.” She banged on her steering wheel. “I don’t want to hear it. You realize that? I’ve said everything that needed to be said!” She was almost yelling by the time she got to the end of that sentence. She continued on in a loud tone. She ranted about him. About his dirty socks. About the way he took up too much of the couch. About how he never replaced the toilet paper on the roll. She disparaged his parentage, something he’d never thought he’d hear her do.

He sat quietly, making only a comment or two about safety, letting her rant and not defending himself at all. He’d let her get this out. He did take notes of some of the things he did that irritated her so he could fix them. Even as she talked, her driving became less erratic the moment they left the parking lot. She might be fussing at him but she paid attention to every light and the speed limit. And it wasn’t a long drive either.

When she finally took a breath, he waited a second and said, “Feel better now?” They were almost at her apartment. There, he would have to figure out how to do this.

“No.” She didn’t look at him. She grasped the steering wheel so tightly that her hands looked like claws.

He wanted to ease her pain. Ease her stress. But how to do that? “You took up my time to talk with your speech. I’m going inside with you. We’re going to talk this over.” Man did he ever sound like he was on repeat. He kept saying the same things.

“Why can’t you just go?” Her voice went high, and tears ran down her face, joining the wetness left by that first tear.

He put his hand on her arm. She tried to shake it off but couldn’t. “Because I can’t, Ally. I just can’t.” If only he could hold her. Damn them for being in a car. God, why did there have to be tears? He’d wanted happy ones. Not these big fat blobs of sadness that caused him so much shame.

They didn’t talk for the next few minutes. He let her drive to her place and then followed her to the door. “I have my key. So even if you lock me out, I’m coming in.” She could lock the chain. But she might not think of it, and better she should think he was coming in anyway. He would, even if he had to break down the door.

She shook her head as if in defeat but still glared at him. “Whatever. Just make it quick.”

They entered her apartment and stepped into the living room, and she automatically took off her shoes. “Start talking. I’m going to take a bath, and I want you out.” She folded her arms over her chest, looking comical with the lunch bag still clutched in them.

He took a deep breath. Now how to do this? He’d never told anyone he loved them before. First, he’d attack what she’d said before they left her work. “Ally…I’m not with you because I can’t be with anyone else.” That was so far from the truth, he couldn’t believe she thought that. “I’m not with you until there is something better.”

She snorted. “Could have fooled me.” She finally tossed her lunch bag on the coffee table and refolded her arms over her chest.

“It’s true. I’m not with you because you’re convenient. Or anything else that you’re thinking.” It had never been because Ally was just there. It had always been about the woman herself.

“Whatever. Is that it? Because I would like to salvage some of my evening and enjoy it.”

“No, that’s not it.” He let his arms fall by his side. Either he or Ally had to be open to what the other said, and she wasn’t going to be. “I can’t imagine why you thought that. Except I’ve never been good with words. Except in philosophy papers.” He’d expected a giggle. She’d always been amused how he could answer a paragraph e-mail with one word but then go on to write extrapolations on the universe that far exceeded the word count.

She stood, stoic. She didn’t even smile.

Tough crowd. “I’ve never been good with emotions either.” He clenched his hands tightly into fists.

She snorted again. “That’s an understatement. Whenever there was a serious emotion, you ran for the hills.”

“Did I just now?” He looked pointedly at her. “Did I run away? Huh?”

She slowly shook her head. “No. Not now.” Did she look intrigued? Maybe that was his opening? “Are we done now? Are you happy? I’m not a convenience for you. Whoopee.” She yawned.

Definite difficult audience. “You know why I’m not good with emotions. And relationships.”

“Yeah, I know. Your parents divorced when you were young. So therefore no relationship will ever make it, so why dive into one?” She blew out an angry breath. “I’ve heard all that before. If that’s all, I’m going to get on with my evening.”

“That’s not all.” This wasn’t going according to plan. He didn’t know the way to tell her how he felt. He’d never been in this position before. Vulnerable. He’d never loved anyone before. Or wanted things he’d never thought he’d want.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You know what? I’m going to take a bath. You can do whatever. I don’t care. You’re not sleeping in my bed. If you try, I’m calling the police. But I’m done here with the same old, same old.”

It wasn’t going to be the same thing. He had something new to share. But dammit, she was making this hard.

She headed for the bathroom, and after a second, he followed. He was right behind her. She stepped in the bathroom and slammed the door in his face. She gave a triumphant cry. “Go home, Tucker.”

He stared at the wooden door standing between him and the woman he wanted. He could break down the door. After all, he could fix it. But doing that would probably break him. He wasn’t a superhero. However, he knew a way around that. He waited until he heard the water running, then went and found what he needed. He put his ear to the door and soon heard the water cut off.

Time.

He used the door “key” she kept over her bedroom door. It went into the little hole and popped most locks. After a second, he popped the lock and casually strolled into the bathroom.

Ally sat in a tub full of bubbles. She opened her eyes as he stood by the tub. “Oh for the love of Pete.”

He could smell apples. That must be the bubble bath. “Don’t know who Pete is.” He began unbuttoning his shirt.

“I told you to get out. Maybe I should call the police.” She almost growled at him. “Get out of my bathroom.”

“You don’t have a phone.” He shrugged off his shirt and started on his shoes and pants. “You’d have to get out of the tub to get one.”

“Bastard.”

The woman who never cursed said the same derisive word she had earlier. “You mentioned that earlier. My parents were married you know.” Not for long, but they had been. Their divorce had messed him up in a lot of ways. But he wasn’t going to lose Ally. Ever.

“You aren’t getting in here with me. And we are not fucking.”

Man, she didn’t play. She was going for broke with the curse words. He held his arms out to the sides in a peace offering. “All I want to do is talk. I won’t grope. I promise.”

“You can talk from
out there
. There’s no need to get in the tub with me to do that.” She drew up her body as he neared her.

“But I wouldn’t be able to hold you. Not from out here.” He took off more clothing. He went slowly, letting her get used to him coming in.

She shook a fist at him. “You’re not holding me. You said no groping.”

His underwear hit the floor. “Holding isn’t groping.” He swung a leg over and slipped into the tub across from her. “Holy shit that’s hot.”

She clamped her lips together. “That’s how I like my bath.” She jammed herself into the corner as far away from him as she could get. She had tightened herself into a ball.

More like roasting water than a bath. He shook his head, trying to clear it.
Let’s start this again
. “I didn’t run away from your emotions tonight.”

“So?”

“Don’t you wonder why?” He started sliding closer to her. The tub was large but not that big. She couldn’t stay away from him forever.

“No.” She tensed when he touched her. She tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. “Stop it. You said you wouldn’t paw at me.”

“Cuddling isn’t the same thing.” It took some doing and a bit of sloshed water. But he soon sat beside her with his arm around her. Holding her. Not exactly what he wanted but that’s what this evening seemed to be about. It was about her and her needs. She felt good against him. Real. Solid. And it gave him purpose. And a reason to do what he needed to do. He could think clearer than he had since she’d shown up at her car. “Do you remember when your grandmother died?”

She lost her glare in the transition to confused face. “What? Yes, of course I do. I remember when Nana died.” She still cried over the woman she’d been close to and who had taught her a love for animals.

“That night, when you were crying, I held you. In my arms. I didn’t grope. We didn’t have sex. I just kept you close and warm and tried to comfort you. I held you all night long.” He tightened his hold on her. “Remember that?”

Her voice was quiet. “Yeah. I do.”

“That’s all I want to do now. You’re upset. I’m not running away. I’m running toward you. To give you all the comfort you need.”

“But I don’t want comfort from you.” Her voice was as biting as it had been in the car.

Ouch. He didn’t let it sting too bad, but it still had punch. “You’re getting it no matter what, and I’m not running away.” He took a deep breath. “Because I love you, Ally Summers. I have since college. That’s why you’re not a convenience. You’re…the only woman I’ve ever loved. Ever wanted to be with.”

ALLY FROZE IN the tub. Despite the warm water she felt cold inside, and she stopped moving. Couldn’t process. Just sat there staring at him like an idiot. “What did you say?”

“I think you heard me.” His voice was low. Quiet. Mesmerizing in its baritone way. His face was earnest and proud.