Surrender (10 page)

“Thank you.”

He stepped into the elevator. “I'd like to visit Will when he comes home from the hospital.”

“Sure,” I said. “I'll let you know.”

After lunch, Neal came back up to the room holding a book in his hands. “Hey, bud,” he said to Will as he approached the bed.

“What book is that?” Will asked, his face lighting up.

“This was the book my mom read to me when I had my appendix out,” he said. “It's about a kid who had to stay in the hospital for a long time because he was sick, but then all sorts of strange people came to visit him. Your mom told me you were an advanced reader, so I thought you might want to read this.”

“I am a good reader,” Will said without pretense. “But I want you to read it to me.”

Neal looked up at me, apparently unprepared for that request. “Um, sure,” he said, dragging a chair closer to the bed.

I shrugged, trying to ignore the warning bells in my head. Neal shouldn't have been there, shouldn't have been sitting with my son, reading him a book. But at that moment I was too exhausted to care. So I sat on the bench and leaned back, listening to Neal read the book to my son like a seasoned pro. I closed my eyes and allowed his deep, soothing voice to wash over me, ironing out the wrinkles on my forehead and in my heart.

“He didn't like it in that room where he was all alone,” Neal read. “He didn't like the needles in his arms and the machines beeping all around.” He turned the page. “But then one day, there came a knock on the door and that was the beginning of a strange and wonderful day . . .”

—

“Julie?”

I opened my eyes, surfacing from the depths of a dreamless sleep, and saw Neal looming over me. For a moment, I couldn't figure out where we were, why it was that I felt completely secure in his presence. I wanted to close my eyes and go back to sleep, but Neal squeezed my shoulder.

“Julie, I'm going to head back to the hotel,” he said in a whisper. “I have some work to do.”

I sat up, our faces inches apart. “Okay.” I reached for a water bottle on the side table and took a long pull, feeling like it had been years since I'd drunk anything. “I'll walk you out.”

I glanced at Will, who was asleep once again, as I stood up and straightened my clothes, sure that I looked rumpled regardless. “Thank you for reading to him,” I said once we were out in the hallway. “He's been reading since three, but he loves it when people read to him.”

Neal smiled tightly. “No problem. I told him he could keep the book.”

“Wait, that was your book?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. I had it with me, so I figured he'd like to read it.”

“You travel around the country with a picture book from your childhood?” I asked, feeling the warmth spreading across my chest.

He shrugged, but though the gesture was nonchalant, his voice was anything but when he said, “It was the last book my mom and I read together.”

I don't know why, but I followed him into that elevator. “Neal,” I said as the doors swished shut, “I don't think you should come back.”

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then his hand shot out and he punched the emergency button, halting the elevator. “Explain,” he said, setting his backpack on the floor.

“It's for the best,” I began, trying to unjumble the words in my head. “I don't want Will getting more attached to you. It's not in his best interests.”

“Why is getting to know me such a bad thing?”

“Because I don't want him looking up to a military guy, thinking fighting and blowing things up is so cool.”

“I don't fight or blow up things but I can assure you that my job
is
cool,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “But this isn't about Will, is it?”

“Actually, it is,” I said. “He can't get attached to you.”

“Are you pushing me away to protect your son or yourself?”

“Both,” I said, lifting my chin. “I can't have you wedging yourself into our lives only to have you deploy and die on us.”

“Pushing me away isn't going to keep me from dying, you know,” he said, his jaw muscles flexing. He sighed and took a step closer until we were almost touching, lifting his hand to my cheek. “Julie, you need to stop fighting this. Because there's something here between us, and it'll still be here whether I'm with you or not.”

I shook my head, tears blurring my vision.

“You take that leap of faith and I promise I'll be there to catch you.” He ducked down and pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. With my face cradled in his hands, he tilted my head back and pressed soft kisses along my cheeks, my nose, and finally to the wrinkled skin between my eyebrows. “I want to be in your life. Yours and Will's.”

“Why?” I whispered, barely able to breathe. God, he was everywhere, overwhelming me with his scent and his touch and his sweet words.

“Because I've been flying all over the country for years and only when I met you did I feel the need to stop and stay.” He brushed his lips against mine, a tender touch full of promise. “Because you're the most amazing woman I've ever met and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that morning on the beach. Because your son is a cool kid who told me yesterday that I should just be brave and tell you why I'm here.”

I lifted my hands and covered his. “And why are you here?” I asked, my gaze steady and true.

“To tell you that I think I'm falling in love with you.”

The breath caught in my throat, but something niggled at me. “What, you're not sure?”

He let out a chuckle. “Oh, I'm sure.” He dipped his head and took my mouth captive once again. The kiss went on for a long time, both tender and urgent. I closed my eyes and let his words soak in, allowing myself to believe that his love was enough to overcome everything else, even his dangerous line of work.

“Maybe you should come by later,” I said, deciding to take that leap of faith.

He smiled, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. “I definitely will.”

The hospital released Will after lunch the following day. It was a Monday but, thankfully, my boss gave me the day off to bring my son home and take care of his needs. Neal arrived just as they were taking the stint out of Will's arm and was helpful in lifting Will out of the wheelchair and into my car.

Back at home, we settled Will onto the couch in the new living room, doing our best to make him comfortable.

“Do you need your blanket?” Neal asked him.

“And my Buzz Lightyear toy, please.”

Neal turned to me but, before he could ask, I said, “No, it's okay. I'll get it.”

“What else do you need, bud?” Neal asked, sitting on the arm of the couch while I tucked Will in.

“Some milk,” Will said with his eyebrows up. He then glanced at me. “And chocolate chip cookies?”

“We're all out of cookies. I haven't had a chance to go to the store.”

“I can go,” Neal said, already reaching in his pocket for the keys to his rental car. “What else do you need?”

“I think I have the fixings to make fresh cookies.”

Will's face lit up. “Oh, yeah!”

“Okay, well, it will take a few minutes.” I handed the TV remotes over as well as the Xbox controllers.

“You need help?” Neal asked, getting up.

“I'm good,” I said automatically. “You can play Xbox with Will.”

“Do you know how to play Mario Brothers?” Will asked as Neal settled on the couch beside him.

“Mario Brothers? Now we're talking.”

I went to the kitchen, casting long looks at the two heads visible over the back of the couch, feeling a strange sensation wash over me.

“Mom, Neal knows how to play it!” Will cried out in excitement.

Neal turned his head and cast me a quick wink. “I used to play this nonstop when I was a kid,” he said. “See, I'll show you a little secret over here . . .”

The two played for several minutes, Will occasionally squealing with delight or gasping when he learned a new secret. While it was Will's turn, Neal got up from the couch and said, “Let me just see if your mom needs help with the cookies.” He came over to where I was balling up the dough. “Hi,” he said, his face all lit up.

“Hi.”

He bent down and kissed me, nibbling on my lower lip before pulling away. “Do you need a hand with your cookies?” he asked with a flirtatious wag of an eyebrow.

I stifled a laugh. “Sure. Just dive in. Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty.”

He dipped a finger in the batter and lifted it up to my mouth. I wrapped my lips around his finger, running my tongue along his skin as I sucked off the batter. His face was impassive but I could see the desire simmering just below the surface of his light brown eyes. He dipped his finger in again and brought it up to his mouth. “So sweet.”

“My cookies always are.”

He stared at me, running his tongue along his lower lip.

“Hey, Neal!” Will called, rousing us from the moment. “Your turn!”

“I'll be right there,” Neal said, never taking his eyes off me. He set his hands on the edge of the counter and leaned closer until our faces were a mere hairsbreadth apart. He touched his finger to my chin and, just when I thought he'd kiss me, he leaned his forehead onto mine. “I know you're used to doing everything yourself,” he murmured. “But I'm here. Let me help.”

I nodded, still unsure, still waiting for that moment when everything felt right.

—

Neal spent the rest of the day with us, watching old
Tom and Jerry
cartoons while we ate the cookies with glasses of cold milk. He and Will shared an easy rapport, as if they'd known each other for years instead of days. Every now and then, Will looked at me with a wide smile, wrenching my heart tight with his joy.

After we ate Chinese takeout in the living room, I gathered up the plates and was about to stand up when Neal grabbed them from me. “You stay right there. I've got this,” he said, squeezing my shoulder.

I sat on the couch with my head slightly turned, watching Neal from the corner of my eye as he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. He must have sensed me watching him because he turned around and flashed me a toothy smile.

I don't know what it is about a man cleaning, but to see him standing in front of my sink was sexy as hell. All he needed was to take off his shirt and flex as he ran the dishes under the water and it might as well have been porn.

“I could really get used to this,” I told him when he returned to the living room.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Are you also available to vacuum?”

“Any time.”

—

At around seven thirty, we brought Will upstairs to get him ready for bed.

“I'll go downstairs and do some work,” Neal said in the doorway to Will's room. “Good night.”

“'Night!” Will said, easing off his T-shirt. I helped him into the tub and gave him a quick wash, using the detachable showerhead to keep water away from his stitches. After he was in his pajamas and tucked into bed, he asked for the book that Neal had given him.

“Hold on. I think it's in my purse,” I said, heading out the door and down the stairs.

“How's it going?” I asked Neal as I walked past the kitchen.

He looked up from his laptop. “Can't complain.”

I came back with the book in my hand and trailed a finger on his shoulder as I walked by. “I'll be back in about five minutes.”

“Take your time.”

I headed upstairs and stopped outside Will's room when I heard him talking to someone. With a pounding heart, I went inside and found he was alone.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked, sitting on the bed.

“Dad,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Like, for pretend?”

“No, for real.”

“When did you start doing that?”

“At the hospital. After the operation,” he said. “A nurse told me that if I was scared or lonely, I could ask my guardian angel to watch over me.”

“You think your dad is your guardian angel?” I asked, having a hard time speaking past the tightness in my throat.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “He's definitely my guardian angel.”

I bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “So what were you telling your dad just now?”

“About all the things Neal did while you were gone.”

“Oh? What did he do?”

“He sat by me and helped me eat when I couldn't sit up. When I was crying because my stitches hurt, he held my hand and asked the nurse for a Popsicle to see if that would help.”

“And did it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “We're gonna have to get some of those fudge Popsicles, Mom, in case anyone else gets hurt. They're like magic.”

I chuckled softly. “Okay.”

“He also told me stories about where he flies. Did you know he has an airplane? Like, by himself?”

“I did know that,” I said.

“He told me that if I wanted to, he could fly us to the beach so he can teach me to surf.” He looked up at me with those blue eyes. “Can we do that, Mom? When I'm all better?”

I started to say that surfing was dangerous, that all it took was one wipeout and a strong undertow to snuff a life away, but bit my tongue. Neal would be there and he'd never let anything happen to my son, I was sure of it. “When the weather is warmer, okay?”

“Okay.” He snuggled deeper under the covers. “Mom, you like Neal, don't you?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Because I want him to stay.”

I hugged him to my side, kissing the top of his head. If I had any reservations about welcoming Neal into our lives, they all but dissolved right then. “Yeah, me, too, sweetheart.”

“So what are you going to do after I go to sleep?” he asked, all wide-eyed innocence. “Are you going to kiiiiiss?”

I pinched his nose and laughed it off. “Never you mind.”

At the bottom of the stairs, I stopped and took a deep breath before going to the living room. But Neal wasn't in there. “Hello?”

“In here.”

I found him standing in the middle of the dance room, barefoot, with the lights turned down low. Soft, slow music was playing from the small CD player on the mantel. He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

I kicked off my shoes and walked over, taking hold of his hand.

He pulled me in and held me against his body, his hands splayed on the curve of my back. I wound my arms around his neck, rubbing my fingers along the short hair on the back of his head. We looked at each other for long moments as we began to sway, the air charged around us.

“Julie,” he said, his fingers clutching at the fabric of my shirt. His brows were drawn together, his face dark with worry.

“What is it?”

He contemplated me for a few more seconds before blinking it all away, bringing forth the affable guy once more. “It's nothing,” he said. “Nothing that can't wait, anyway.”

“Why are you being so ominous?” I asked, pulling away. “Why don't you just tell me what you're hiding?”

He jerked me back against his body and, instead of an explanation, he simply molded his mouth to mine and tried to erase my doubts with a searing kiss. And though I didn't want to be distracted, a part of me gave in anyway because deep down, I sensed that what he was hiding was something that could ruin what we had right now. So I tilted my head back and kissed him, content in the knowledge that, at least for now, all was good.

“Do you want to stay the night?” I asked after we pulled away.

“But Will . . . what will you tell him?”

“I'm not sure,” I said, swallowing hard. “But I don't want to think about it right now. Right now, I just want to dance.”

“Then let's dance,” he said and swung me around. His hands roamed up my back and all around, caressing me, wandering over my curves and edges. In his arms, I felt supple, as if he could mold me with his touch.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he breathed.

“I think you were right.”

“About what?”

“About the universe putting us in the right spot at the right time.”

He smiled, but there was a sad undertow in his eyes that I tried to ignore. “There is no doubt in my mind that we were definitely meant to meet.”

I took his hand and led him upstairs, turning off all the lights, never more glad than in that moment that Will's room was at the other end of the hall from mine. I led Neal into my bedroom and closed the door quietly behind me, hearing the satisfying click of the lock.

Neal surveyed the room, wordlessly taking in my off-white bed and my cream-hued curtains and furnishings.

“I know it's a girly room,” I said, surreptitiously sliding some clothes off the dresser and stuffing them into a drawer below.

“Not at all,” he said, turning to face me. “I feel like I just walked into a cloud.”

His words stretched my mouth until the smile took up half of my face. How was it possible that this man—whom I'd only known for a short time—somehow understood me?

Neal closed the distance between us and took my hand, pressing my palm against his chest, and suddenly it was as if my every sense was heightened—the feel of his heartbeat under my hand, the scent of him that reminded me of the ocean after a thunderstorm, the sight of his handsome face made even more attractive by the scruff on his cheeks.

I lifted to my toes and touched my lips to his mouth, eager to taste him, needing to hear him make that sexy noise from low in his throat. The moment I parted my lips to his, a moment of piercing clarity washed over me: Neal was unlike any man I'd ever met. Nobody, not even Jason, had ever made me feel this alive, this free. That fact alone drew me to him, but there was something more, something inscrutable and indefinable about him that meant only one thing.

“I hope you're ready to catch me,” I said against his lips.

His arms went around my waist right before understanding lit up his eyes. “I'm here. I've got you.” Without warning, he swooped down and lifted me off my feet, carrying me across the room and lowering me to the middle of the bed. He lay down on his side and ran the pad of his thumb along my lower lip. “You have no idea how badly I want to have you naked underneath me right now.”

I ran my nails along his crotch. “Then what's the holdup?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I want to make sure Will is asleep so we don't get interrupted.”

“You can kiss me until then.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He rolled until he was partly on top of me, slinging one leg over mine. He kissed me, feather-soft touches that spoke of his capacity for tenderness. I grasped the back of his head and deepened the kiss, greedy for more.

“I think he's asleep enough,” I said and rolled over onto him.

“Yes. Definitely.”

Taking my time, I pulled my sweater up over my head, swiveling my hips in the process. His hands sneaked around to my back and unclasped my bra, pulling the cotton fabric away from my chest.

“You're unusually good at that,” I said, biting back a smile. “Must have had plenty of practice.”

“No, I just have nimble fingers.”

I followed his gaze down to find that he'd already undone my button and zipper without my knowledge. He raised an eyebrow smugly.

I got up off the bed and took my pants off then took the opportunity to do the same to him. He sat up to lose his shirt then lay back down, beckoning me over. When I crawled over and resumed my seat on his lap, he hooked his hands on the back of my shoulders and urged me down for a kiss. One of his hands snaked between our naked bodies and moved to my mound, his fingers sliding easily through my folds.

I gasped when two digits pushed at my entrance then thrust inside. “You weren't lying about your fingers,” I said, sitting up. I set my hands on his chest and began to rock to and fro, fucking his fingers.