Surrender (7 page)

“I just want to make sure you take a snapshot of this moment and file it away in your memory so if something should come between you and me, you'll be able to remember.”

“I don't understand,” I said, hot prickles bursting on the back of my neck. “What is going to come between you and me?”

He shook his head, his eyes haunted. “I'm the ocean and you're the sky, remember? There's a whole world that comes between us and never will the two converge.”

“They meet in the horizon.”

“That's just an optical illusion.”

“I don't know what the hell is wrong with you,” I said, wrenching myself away and stomping toward the edge of the stage. I sat down and grabbed my shoes. “We were having a perfectly pleasant moment before you started talking skies and illusions.”

He shoved his feet into his shoes and sighed. “I'm just preparing for the inevitable.”

I stalked off up the aisle toward the exit. “Call your friend. We're done here.”

I had some time to think in the taxi on the way back to the hotel, to chew on his words and figure out why I'd reacted so violently, but by the time we were dropped off, I had already cooled down. After raising a son on my own, I'd become pretty good at reeling in my temper.

Neal didn't say anything when we walked into the hotel. He just grabbed my hand and walked beside me, never letting go, even when we wedged ourselves inside the crowded elevator. As the car ascended, Neal continued to hold my hand and never once took his eyes off me. I kept my eyes trained on the backs of people's heads, wishing it were possible to see through a thick skull to read the person's thoughts.

Once we were back in the privacy of our room, I spun on him. “Something happened last night. When we were talking on the balcony.”

He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt.

I reached out and stayed his hands. “Tell me.”

He blinked up at me, his eyes a murky brown. “I realized that I'm not good enough for you.”

My face twisted in confusion. “What?”

He took hold of my wrists and brought my hands up to his face, holding them against his bristly cheeks. “You are a beautiful, talented, amazing woman who deserves more in life than someone like me,” he said. “But you misunderstood me. I wasn't saying good-bye. I'm a selfish bastard and I'll hold on to you until you tell me to go.”

It occurred to me then, as I stood on my toes and touched my lips to his, that I didn't want to say good-bye, either. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “I guess that makes us both selfish, then.”

“Maybe so.” He grabbed me around the waist and walked me backward until the backs of my legs hit the mattress. “Put your arms up,” he instructed before pulling my tank top over my head.

“You really enjoy undressing me, don't you?” I allowed him to slip my skirt and panties down.

“Do you blame me?” he asked, his eyes devouring my naked form. “Look at you. You're perfect.”

“I don't know about perfect.” I no longer had a lean, lithe dancer's body. After giving birth, my breasts became C cups and perhaps weren't as perky as they used to be, my hips were wider, and I no longer had the muscle definition that I'd once been so proud of. But as curvy as I'd become, I was under no illusion that I was out of shape. “But I like my body just fine.”

He set his hands on my waist. “Me, too.” Then he guided me down onto the bed, positioning my naked form in the middle of the mattress. He bent down over me, his hands burning hot against my skin as he slid them between my thighs then gently pried my legs apart until I lay spread-eagled on the mattress.

I watched and waited, my muscles taut with anticipation. He said nothing, only kept his gaze on me as he straightened up and took off his own clothes without hurry. I felt so vulnerable being laid bare to his scrutiny, but a part of me reveled in it.

When he was completely naked, he stood at the foot of the bed and continued to take me in. His cock twitched but he ignored it and instead set his palms on my shins and skimmed them upward, his touch almost reverent. He crouched over me as his touch continued, his fingers rolling over my hip bones and up over my ribs, flittering over my breasts as they made their way across my chest.

My stomach trembled uncontrollably when his hands cradled my head and he brought his head down to my neck, breathing me in.

“Don't stop, please,” I said, feeling short of breath. “I need you to touch me.” I gasped when I felt the wet heat of his tongue tracing along my collarbone then sliding down my chest, paying careful attention to the neglected skin under my breasts.

He said nothing as he sat back on his haunches and continued the gentle caress, tracing my every curve with the pads of his fingers, leaving tingling trails all across my body. He wore a brooding look on his face as he raked his nails across my nipples then sat astride me, his balls heavy and ticklish on my mound.

“What are you doing?” I asked, the sight of him over me taking my breath away. My insides throbbed, aching to be filled.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “I'm memorizing you, trying to appreciate you with all my senses,” he said in a roughened voice.

“Are you done? Because I'd really like to be fucked now.”

A hint of a smile playing along his lips, he rolled off me to get a condom. He settled back between my legs, the unopened package in his hands.

“Wait,” I said before he ripped the wrapper. “I want to feel you without it.”

His eyes bored into me, and just when I thought he would reject the idea, he said, “I'm clean.”

“Good. I can't get pregnant.”

He let out a breath and threw aside the foil package. He positioned himself at my entrance, waiting for an answer. “Are you sure?” he asked, his elbows on either side of my head.

I lifted my hips and felt him penetrate my cleft. “Definitely.”

He sank down into me with a pained groan, our naked bodies aligning. “Julie,” he rasped. “You feel incredible.”

I wrapped my legs around his ass, reveling in the pleasure of his bare skin against my channels. I clutched him tighter as he began to rock his hips back and forth, thrusting into me in a steady rhythm. He wrapped his arm around my back and held tight as his thighs nudged my legs farther apart, allowing him to plunge deeper until he found my G-spot. Over and over his thick cock stroked me, ripping ragged moans from my throat.

I gripped his ass, digging my fingers into his flesh, enjoying the sensation of his crotch rubbing against my clit. Then he took hold of my wrists and held them above my head, his gaze holding me in place. It was an incredibly intimate moment, as if our bodies as well as our minds were connected. If it was possible to peer directly into someone's soul, I was sure I could see into his and he into mine.

I had never felt more naked in my entire life.

I felt the climax rip through me the moment I came to the realization that I was starting to fall for this man. A tremor traveled over my entire body but Neal held me down, prolonging the pleasure with his firm thrusts, and I bit into his shoulder to muffle my cries as the orgasm went on and on.

His breathing sped up at the same time as his movements, and his body bowed over me as he pressed into me one last time, his entire body a landscape of taut muscles.

After the end of his climax, he relaxed, supporting his weight on his elbows as his fingers brushed the sides of my face. Tears escaped out the corners of my eyes, and though I tried, I was too weak to rein in my emotions. So I just stared into his eyes, helpless and crying, drawing in ragged breaths.

Neal didn't have to ask what was wrong. I suspected he already knew. “Julie,” he whispered, wiping away my tears. “I feel it, too.”

—

After taking a shower together, we ordered room service and ate dinner on the bed, wearing nothing but thick bathrobes.

“Try this,” he said, picking up a wedge of pineapple with his fingers and bringing it to my lips.

I opened up and took it in, sucking the juice off his fingers. “This is the sweetest pineapple I've ever tasted.” I looked around at the empty plates on the tray, coming to the conclusion that perhaps my enjoyment of this food had something to do with my revelation earlier. Everything, even the pumped-in hotel air, seemed more fresh.

I crawled around behind him and peeled the robe away from his back, exposing the faint lines of his eagle tattoo. I traced a finger along the light brown outline of the stylized bird, its wings spread out over his shoulders.

If I believed in omens, I would think that this tattoo was the universe's way of telling me that this man had been brought to me for a reason.

“You should definitely visit Dallas,” I said, pressing my lip to the very heart of the bird.

“Just say the word,” he said, twisting around to face me. “But I have to stop in Kansas first. I have to get something from storage.”

“What's that?”

He shook his head, tangling our fingers together. “Just some stuff.” He studied my hand, playing with my fingers. His gaze caught on my ring finger. “Have you ever been married before?” he suddenly asked.

I let out a long breath. “Yes.”

He nodded, urging me to go on.

“I was married once, to a good man. But it didn't last.”

“Why not?”

“Because I married him for the wrong reasons. I married him out of loneliness.” I could have told Neal about my son in that moment, to explain why I'd felt I needed a husband to begin with, but the words stuck in my throat. The truth was, I was still afraid. “He also grew to resent me for getting my tubes tied. He wanted children, I guess.”

“And you don't?”

I pursed my lips and shook my head, searching for the courage to just tell him about Will. But I guess that's the thing when you care about someone, you start to care about what they think of you. “What about you? Have you ever been married?”

“I almost proposed to my girlfriend once after I got back from deployment.”

“Oh, that's a pity . . .” His words took a moment to sink in, and then my head was spinning and I felt like I was about to faint.

“But come to find out, she'd cheated on me while I was away and didn't even have the decency to break up with—” He stopped and peered into my face. “Are you okay?”

I scrambled for my champagne flute and took a large gulp, trying to clear the clog in my throat. Suddenly it became clear to me, the eagle tattoo, the reason he knew Henry. I couldn't believe I never saw it before. “You're in the military?”

“I was Air Force but now I'm in the reserves.” He spoke slowly as if afraid to spook me.

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

He shrugged as he shook his head. “I thought you knew. I thought maybe Henry or Elsie had told you.”

“No, they didn't.” I got off the bed and began to gather my clothes from around the room.

“What's wrong?” he asked, getting to his feet. “Why are you packing?”

“I can't . . .” I stopped and took a deep breath, trying to contain the disappointment that was threatening to surge out of my eyes. “I'm sorry. I can't see you anymore.”

“Because I'm in the military?”

“Basically.” I stuffed my clothes in my bag, not bothering to fold them. I needed out of here before I did something even more stupid, like give him all of me.

He grabbed my hand and wrenched the bag out of my grasp. “Julie, stop,” he said in a commanding tone. “Stop and talk to me. What's wrong with being in the military?”

I tried to retrieve my bag, but he held it away from my reach. “I have my reasons,” I said between my teeth. “Give it back.”

He turned my bag upside down over the bed, its contents tumbling all over the mattress. “You're not leaving until you give me a valid reason.” When I lunged for my clothes, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me close. “Talk to me.”

I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling, but there was no hiding the regret in my eyes. “You know why, Neal,” I finally said.

His fingers dug into my skin. “Because of your dead fiancé?”

I nodded, averting my eyes. If I looked at him one more second, I might cry. “As much as I like you, I can't get attached if there's even a chance that you'll go out there and die. I can't go through that again.”

He took a deep breath, his heart breaking all over his face. “Okay,” he said, that one word soaked with finality. “I'll fly you home.”

“No,” I said quickly. “I'll just take a commercial plane.”

I expected him to argue, to insist that he'd take me, but he just nodded and said, “Let me call you a taxi at least.”

Neal dressed and waited with me at the front of the hotel for the taxi to arrive. He didn't have to—I practically pushed him back through the sliding doors, I was so aggravated—but he wouldn't budge. He simply stood stoically beside me, his hands folded across his wide chest, casting glances at me as if I were a complex math problem that had him perplexed.

“I'm sorry it has to end like this,” I said, seeing the taxi turn off the street and into the hotel driveway. “I appreciate everything you've done for me.”

He nodded, though there was pain in his eyes.

I cleared my throat. “You gave me the ability to fly, even for a little while.” Hell, I was being sappy, but how was it possible to keep from being sentimental during this gut-wrenching moment? “I'll never forget it.”

When the taxi stopped before us, Neal stepped off the curb and opened the door. The move, so chivalrous in nature, just about broke my heart. “Have a safe trip back home.”

I set my bag inside and turned to face him one last time. “Be safe,” I said, and gave him a brisk hug.

“Julie, before you leave, please tell me your last name.”

“Keaton.”

He let out a defeated sigh and nodded gravely. “Julie Grace Keaton,” he said, my name sounding beautiful in his deep voice.

“Wait, I don't know yours.” How was it possible that I'd slept with him, flown to a whole other state with him, and yet we didn't even know each other's names?

“Harding. Neal Harding.” He held out his hand and I took it for the last time. His eyes rooted me in place as he shook my hand, then before I could react, he tugged me in and I was engulfed in his strong arms. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in his scent, then he was gripping my hair and kissing me, a desperate man drawing his last breath. “This isn't the end, Julie,” he said, bowing his head to mine. “Not by a long shot.”

I wanted to believe him, wanted so badly to take back the last hour so I could enjoy our last night together, but knew it wouldn't change a thing. Because come the morning, he would still be the very thing I'd been running away from all these years.

I pulled away, wishing I'd been more careful with my heart. “Sorry, Neal. It has to be.”

—

I arrived in Monterey at midnight, bleary-eyed and numb. Though it had been a direct, three-hour flight, by the time I walked off the plane I felt like I'd been traveling for days.

I took a taxi to the Shermans' house and let myself in quietly, using the key Elodie had lent me. On my way to the guest bedroom, John appeared at the top of the stairs, concern written all over his sleep-rumpled face. “Julie? I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow,” he said, padding down the stairs.

“I . . . I missed Will,” I said, hoping he didn't notice my puffy, red-ringed eyes in the dim hallway light.

He nodded, looking like a comfortable sage in his blue robe.

I had just turned to go when he spoke, stopping me in my tracks. “You know, sometimes things like these don't work out,” he said gently. “But the admirable part is that you gave it a try.”

I kept my back turned to him. I didn't want him to see my lips twisted in misery. “Good night, John. Sorry I woke you,” I said and walked away.

Instead of going to the guest room, I crept into Will's room and lay beside him, wrapping myself around his little body. He snored softly, unaware that his mother's heart was hurting. I held him to me—my sweet little man—and finally closed my eyes, glad that we only had one more day before returning back to our normal lives.

—

A while after Jason and I had broken it off, I came to Dallas with the cast and company of
Broadway Across America
, and I invited him to one of our after parties. I didn't think he'd actually come since I hadn't seen or spoken to him in a while, but he made the three-hour drive down from Oklahoma City on his own.

“Well, well, well,” he said with a wide smile when he spotted me in the bar. “Look who flew into town.”

I gave him a kiss on the cheek, feeling the familiar fluttering in my belly whenever he was around. “I'm glad you came.”

He looked good, more muscular and mature than I remembered, and I told him as much while I led him out to the dance floor.

He grabbed my waist, just like he'd done when we first met, and danced from my cue. “If I look good, then you look fantastic.”

We slipped into our old ways easily, the dancing leading into touching, the touching making swift way to the kissing. It was easy with Jason because he lacked pretense. He had no secrets and it seemed—at least during that time in my life—that he was the only person I knew without a hidden agenda. He wanted me; that much he'd always made clear.

“I need to sit and I need beer,” he said, tugging me away from the dance floor.

“But this is a good song!” I protested.

“I need nourishment!” he growled, bending down to nibble at my neck.

We sat down at a table a few minutes later, laughing and drinking like old times.

“I've missed you,” I said, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for driving down here to see me.”

“I'd go anywhere for my favorite dancer,” he said with a wink. “You know I'm staying the night with you, right?”

“You'd better,” I said. “So how's life treating you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“What would you do if I said yes?” he asked, chuckling. “Would you feel bad, considering you've been kissing me all night?”

I smacked his arm. “You'd better not have come down here, kissing and flirting with me, if you have a girlfriend!”

He laughed, giving me a peck on the mouth. “No, I'm not seeing anyone,” he said, his blue eyes glittering with meaning. “I had a girlfriend for a little while, but it didn't work out. She didn't like that I was in the Air Force.”

I took a sip of my wine, giddy and drunk on his presence. “Why?”

“Because we deploy and we go on unaccompanied tours for a year at a time.”

“Why do it, then? Why start a relationship with someone, knowing you'll be leaving for months or years at a time?” I leaned in for the answer, not knowing back then just how it would affect the rest of my life.

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Don't you think it's kind of selfish? You'd be putting her through hell on purpose,” I said, feeling so important with my views and opinions.

“Why is it selfish?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together. “Don't I deserve to be loved, too?”