Had To Be You (49 page)

As he motored past moorings, threading amongst the buoys and lobster pots, the haze of fog created ghostly mists on the water, but it would eventually burn off with the rising sun.

He had laid awake all night, going over each and every moment they’d ever spent together. Not just this summer, but their whole lives. Matt was still searching for something, perhaps a clue hidden somewhere in their long and convoluted history, that might help explain why no one else had ever been able to make him feel the way she did.

He finally decided that it didn’t matter if the things Amanda said to him that day were true or not. It didn’t matter what happened in their past. All that mattered was what Matt saw when he looked into Rory’s eyes. That’s where his truth could be found—the only past, present, and future that mattered anymore. Of all the assorted fears she may have had over the years when it came to their relationship, Matt had only ever had one, and that was to lose her. But that had already happened, so what was left?

Cutting across the glassy surface of the sea in a wide back towards shore, he set his course. It was a place they returned to again and again; a place he never really left. And, as the sun rose, Matt headed towards home.

When he reached his apartment, he jogged up the steps, head low. He only made it inside as far as his kitchen when there was a knock on the door. His heart felt like it lifted its dying head for one last gasp, but when he opened it, only Jill was smiling from his doorstep, her infant daughter cradled in her arms.

“Hey,” he greeted her in a gravelly, world-weary tone.

“Wow. You sound like shit.” She narrowed her eyes. “Kind of look like it, too.”

He gave her a dark smirk before wandering away, leaving the door open.

“Always a pleasure. Is there anything I can do for you, Jill?”

“Actually, yes, there is something you can do for me.” She followed him into the apartment. “Here.”

Matt turned, his eyes widening in unexpected surprise to see she was offering up the pink baby bundle in her outstretched arms. He held up his hands in mild panic.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to hold her,” Jill explained. “Come on. Take her.”

“What? I, um…” Matt was useless to refuse as she practically shoved the bundle into his arms. He awkwardly tried to maneuver what seemed like the correct position. It felt like a warm sack of flour, sweet and powdery, but as he gazed down to see the lashes fluttering against pink cheeks, and heard the tiny gurgle of a sound, he was acutely aware of the tiny vibrant life in his hands.

Jill stood back, and seemed to be waiting for something. Matt only looked at her helplessly. “Now what?”

“Now we talk,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“
Because, despite the fact that you seem ready to roll over and play dead here, I’ve decided that I’m not going to let you give up that easily. Not on my watch, mister.” He tried to respond, but she cut him off, continuing, “You’re the first person to encourage someone else to go after what they want, Matt. You’ve been there to give every one of us that push when we needed it. So, why when it comes to yourself, are you ready to just give up without a fight? It makes no sense, and I think what you need is just a good swift kick in the butt. So, this is me, kicking your ass—metaphorically speaking.”

He lifted the baby slightly, inclining his head. “And is she part of your intimidation tactics?”

“No,” she said. “I wanted you to hold her for the first time, because the first time I held her? It became instantly clear to me what was important in life, what wasn’t, and what mattered most. Now we know what matters here, and so you’re going to think of something—anything—to get Rory back.”

Shaking his head, he blew out a weighty sigh. “Look, I don’t know. Maybe we both just need some time right now to—”

“Well, sorry, you don’t have it,” Jill interrupted. “Because she’s on her way to New York. I’m talking literally now, Matt. You need to get her back!”

His heart stilled, struck speechless. It couldn’t be. Rory couldn’t already be gone. He was just with her last night. He thought they’d have more time.

“So, I don’t know what this thing is going to be,” Jill continued, “but it better be good. No, scratch that. It better be great. I don’t want to see either of you wasting any more time in these other temporary replacement relationships that aren’t right. I don’t need any more tearful phone call confessionals from her in the middle of the night, and I refuse to watch you limping around like a lost, sad puppy dog that just got kicked for the rest of your life! It wouldn’t be a good idea to disappoint me here, Matt. You won’t like me when I’m disappointed.”

“That’s assuming I like you now.”

“You love me, and you know it,” she replied. “And you love her, and
everybody
knows it—which is why you’re going to do this. Now give me my baby back.”

Matt carefully eased the sleeping bundle over. For a brief moment, it felt funny without that soft weight in his arms, like he was already missing something.

It was true, however, that he now knew exactly what he had to do.

“You can give me directions, right?”

Jill gazed down at her infant daughter. “Directions to where?”

“Rory’s place. Once I’m in the city, I mean.”

She lifted her eyes, lips parted in stunned surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

Her smile slowly lifted and spread its wings. “Damn, I’m good.”

He gave her a brief glance of weary amusement. “I know it’s difficult, but can we take the focus off you for just a minute here? Because I have to leave right now if I’m going to catch a flight.”

“Fine.” Jill nodded. “But in the future? When I tell this story—
and I will
—it’s going to be
all
about me.”
 

THIRTY-EIGHT

Reclined to rest on one elbow, Rory stretched her tanned legs along the silky fabric of the sleeping bag. Matt let his gaze drift over her with a small smile as she studied the cards in her hand by the glow of the small boat lantern.

It was a seasonably cool summer night, and the sky was wide open overhead. Brilliant glimpses of starlight were visible between cracks in the weathered wood slats of the lifeguard shack. The music drifting out of the old radio faded in and out with the crash and fizzle of the surf.

“Hit me,” she said.

He slapped another card from the pile down in front of her.

She took it and grinned, spreading her hand out for him to see. “And that’s blackjack, baby.”

He chuckled quietly, gathering all the cards again.

“Fine. Make it four out of seven.”

Rory snuggled deeper into the wrap of his borrowed sweatshirt, watching his hands as he shuffled the deck.

“You really suck at this game tonight,” she said, gently teasing him.

He glanced up at her.

“Well, now I have to let you win.”

“What?” she gasped and laughed. “Yeah, right!”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules.” He shrugged, his attention on the deck as he tried not to grin. “It’s part of my job now. I have to open your doors, hold your purse, tend to your needs. It’s all part of what a good boyfriend does.”

She narrowed her gaze, but the corner of her mouth curved up.

“So, suddenly now you’re my boyfriend? When did we get an official ruling on that?”

Matt hesitated, and then lifted his eyes to hers again.

“You tell me.”

She lightly bit down on her lower lip, as if trying to restrain the pull of her smile. Suddenly, she abandoned the card game altogether and eased over to climb right into his lap, straddling him on the sleeping bag.

“What are you doing now?” he murmured, forgetting the cards as his hands moved up to cup her face, gently pushing the drape of her long hair out of the way.

Their eyes met in a shared smile, and then she bowed her head.

“This,” she whispered against his lips.

She kissed him softly, the tip of her small tongue slipping past his lips to slide along his tongue. He couldn’t resist the sweet, seductive pull of her mouth, all honeyed heat and warm breath. Her arms encircled his neck, fingers threading through his short hair, and Matt glided his hands up and down her back, grasping her silky tresses in his fist when she broke away to feather a succession of even softer kisses down his neck.

She probably had no idea what she did to him in these moments, and Matt couldn’t even really put it into words. It was a combination of that thrilling hot, hungry rush of lust and desire, yet at the same time setting his very soul at ease. With every touch of her lips, it was like she broke him apart and put him back together.

Smiling, she pressed her soft hand to his cheek, sweeping the pad of her thumb across his long, dark eyelashes.

“Will you stop?” he muttered on a quiet chuckle.

“I can’t help it!” Sweet laughter bubbled up in her silky voice. “They’re just so pretty.” Then she tilted her head slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, listen…
I love this song.”

Matt tore his rapt attention away just long enough to catch the lyrics about cradles, graves, and promises made, struck by an unexpectedly pure note of truth.

When he met her eyes again, he almost couldn’t breathe.

“What?” she asked.

His voice felt stuck, and he gulped. He knew it might happen one day, but he didn’t know it would feel quite like this. He’d heard about it, read about it, but nothing could prepare him.

“What is it?” she asked again with an insistent frown. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shook his head, briefly avoiding her eyes. For a fleeting moment, he actually thought he might cry.

“Eh…I don’t think you want to know.”

Matt still wasn’t quite sure what was happening here. They hadn’t really discussed it—beyond making plans that were suddenly, conveniently, thrillingly exclusive only to the two of them. All he really knew was that he never wanted it to stop. They now sort of belonged to each other, in a way. Though, really, he had always been hers.

He had been attracted to her for so long he couldn’t really say when it began. Rory was pretty, that was a given. Her eyes alone deserved their own special category in that regard. Although they hadn’t actually had sex, she was the sexiest thing he could imagine, far more so than the girls who obviously tried so hard, with that tight curve of her bottom, long, sculpted legs, and perfect round breasts. Her skin was so soft and silky to the touch, that touching her was pretty much all he ever wanted to do. And it took just one whiff of her hair to bring on that warm, melting sensation deep in the pit of his stomach, leaving him a little dizzy and weak.

It was more than that, though. She made him laugh, she made him think, she challenged him, and she didn’t put up with his nonsense. She understood him, probably better than anyone, maybe even his own family. She made him happy in a way that pretty much redefined what happiness meant. She was his best friend. And he could talk to her about anything.

“Matt, will you please just tell me?”

He finally met her questioning gaze and, upon leaving
his lips for the first time, they became so much more than just three little words. Carried out from his heart on the air from his lungs into all the vastness and permanence of the surrounding sea and sky, each one like a tiny point of shining light meant to last forever.

He’d only need to look into that light reflected in her eyes, and he’d know, just like he knew right now.

“I love you, Rory.”

And he always would.

***

Resting one hand on the wheel, she kept her attention fixed on the road ahead, her steady gaze hidden behind dark sunglasses to shield her weary eyes from the late afternoon glare.

Untangling the little car from tourist traffic around the square, leaving behind the stately homes downtown, she coasted past the crowded summer harbor, golden salt marshes and boats on the vivid blue bay. Leaving the ocean behind, the views stretched past rolling green farm fields and then, suddenly, she was back on the highway.

It was like her life, flash-forward in reverse.

Rory had felt like her foot was pressed to the floor, flying, when she’d originally made the drive north just weeks ago. Now it was all slow stops and starts, caught up in the heavy pull of traffic to drag her back down. Every so often her mind would drift back to early that morning, the moment she’d blinked her eyes open to the same painful sunshine pouring in through the bedroom window. Despite the confusion of her dreams, she knew he wasn’t with her, even without turning to see the empty space in bed.

She delayed her leaving as long as she could—waiting for what, she didn’t know. It did allow her the time to take her mother out to lunch, suddenly seeing her in a different light. Picking yourself up to move on when it felt like your life was over, your heart broken, couldn’t be easy for anyone, and she did it while raising a daughter. Rory had a whole new sense of compassion and respect for her.

Maybe there was still a someday out there somewhere, waiting for her and Matt. But she couldn’t see it right now, and had to give a hard look at what was right in front of her.

By the time she finally pulled off the interstate, back in New York, evening was descending over the city, the smoky gray streets crowded with noise and activity. It was the time of night that she might enjoy stopping for a drink or bite to eat at some sidewalk café, if just for the opportunity to people watch. Like a constant observer, a stranger in a strange land, with no real life to call her own here.